How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love Smile Away
by EmperorDoofenshmirtz
Summary: One year after the Smile Away coup and the events of Tempus Fugit, two incredibly minor characters take their chance and seize the spotlight. Naturally, Danville is doomed.
1. Good Omens

**Just when you thought I was gone for good, I return from the depths! Here is the Adyson and Gretchen spin-off promised, although it is here that I fully embrace the Smile Away AU as it's been established so far. While Phineas doesn't appear in this chapter, he will also be pretty important. This seems Lighter and Softer at first, but remember it's a continuation from Tempus Fugit, so the happiness will be temporary.**

**1 - Good Omens**

_**In which SEELE threaten to sue, Gretchen needs a goddamn drink, Adyson holds the power of Thor and Jeremy wishes he lived somewhere else.**_

* * *

The Smile Away Reformatory School had long since decayed – in under a year, the shoddily constructed walls were beginning to crumble and collapse. The electroshock and medical bays had been looted by less than honest people for anything remotely usable in back-alley work. The rooms had been stripped of bedding and used as toilets by vagrants. Warning signs were placed around and the entire building was cordoned off. Rumour had it that the Fireside Girls kept the building under surveillance.

In its initial days of genuinely trying to reform trouble children, the school had been subjected to state inspections like any other. When a man known as Ironside entered the building, the inspections stopped.

In the aftermath of the 'Danville Coup', as it became known, this fact was repeatedly ignored by investigating officers.

People began to suspect corruption, but no-one formally voiced these claims, because the evidence no longer existed. That did not stop tabloids from occasionally labelling their latest celebrity target a 'Smiler', or implying that either Republicans or Democrats had secretly sponsored the experiments that the school had specialised in.

Some celebrities were Smilers. As were several Republicans, and several Democrats. The group met once a month to discuss their next move. There were not many of them, but they were all extremely influential, and dedicated to the idea of a new order, a regime in which the children of America could follow every command and grow into the finest fighting force the world had ever seen.

They had not been impressed with Ironside. They had however, been rather frightened of him, and had not attempted to replace him when his intentions became clear. He had taken their funding and twisted it to benefit his own plan.

That plan had cost them every single child in the reformatory school save one. All of the others had returned to their families, or in the case of one, died.

Granted, the event had garnered some support, in the way that any newsworthy item tended to gather a misaimed fandom. While the tribute websites and tiny protests were not very helpful, the group appreciated the thought. In other countries, interests were piqued, and rumour had it that several less than humane governments were following in Smile Away's footsteps.

Recently, the group had been examining Russian gulags in Siberia, and studying re-education programs. They were about to embark on their greatest project, the one that Ironside had ignored.

The men and women gathered in the lobby of the hotel, chatting amiably. They always met in the same hotel – one of them owned the chain, although most of them had forgotten who that one actually was. Two children served drinks and food, eyes staring blankly ahead. They were orphaned and under the care of their aunt, who was among the group. They had no names. They were simply Patient 27 and Patient 28 if anyone needed to distinguish between them.

When the group filed into one of the conference rooms, the discussion began as usual. They were awaiting a call. None of them knew if the caller could be trusted, but she was the only one they could rely on.

'This does not bode well' seemed to be the consensus.

* * *

"We have a problem."

Adyson stood blinking on her doorstep, taking a moment to digest Gretchen's information. She wondered if Gretchen was physically unable to begin a conversation with 'Hello Adyson'. However, the bespectacled girl had never been one for idle chat, especially if it was not related to the Fireside Girls.

"Are you using the royal we?" Adyson asked slowly, "As in, 'we have a problem in that we have a nasty habit of turning up on Adyson's porch and announcing our problems?' Well done! The first step is admitting you have that problem!"

Gretchen did not smile, and pushed her glasses back up her nose. As usual, she had bothered to dress in uniform – Adyson, she noticed, had not. Sometimes Gretchen wondered why she even bothered. The summer heat was making Gretchen's temper even worse – the sweat was causing her glasses to slide more than usual.

"It's very important – our place in the Fireside Girls depends on it!" she snapped at Adyson, who was now leaning in the doorway, a lazy grin on her face.

"Notice that there's a contradiction there," Adyson yawned. However, seeing the colour of Gretchen's face, she softened slightly. "Alright, you can come in."

Gretchen hastily darted into the cool hallway, grateful for a breath of air that did not feel as if it was ninety-nine percent warm water. If the heat continued, she suspected that Danville would simply melt. Adyson staggered towards the kitchen, barely awake as Gretchen followed after.

"So what is the problem?" Adyson's voice came from behind an open cupboard door.

"Someone broke into HQ."

Adyson barely reacted, sniffing at an open carton of milk. "Suzy Johnson again?"

"Unable to confirm. The CCTV was offline."

Adyson suddenly turned very red and whistled slightly, hiding her face from Gretchen's cold angry stare.

"What a shame…"

Gretchen pushed her glasses back up her nose in a way that made the light glint menacingly on the lenses. Adyson secretly found it terrifying.

"Someone apparently decided that they would simply turn off the security system and forget about any possible consequences. Someone unable to consider consequences. And I wonder, does this sound like someone I would know? If I did know this irresponsible someone, and here's hoping I most certainly do not, I would be most… aggrieved, and would demand either the assistance of that someone or their head on a large and ornamental silver plate." Gretchen suddenly grinned innocently. "But that's only my opinion."

Adyson gulped.

"The cameras were a little creepy…" the taller girl stammered. "We already have the cameras filming the show, so…"

"What on earth are you blabbering about?"

"Fourth wall…" Adyson mumbled sheepishly, before snapping fully awake. "So what happened during this break-in?"

Gretchen sat down at the kitchen table, forming her fingers into a steeple across her mouth. Once again, the glasses flashed dangerously. Having a penchant for the dramatic, she let out an overly-loud sigh before stating,

"The Swamp Oil Five Hundred trophy is missing."

"The… oh! The one from last summer!"

"Precisely."

It had been a while since Phineas and Ferb had won the Swamp Oil 500 derby, but Adyson could remember clearly the day Isabella had entered the lodge, holding the trophy aloft and gushing about how Phineas had entrusted it to her. The trophy had almost certainly been there at the start of the week – it was the centrepiece of the trophy cabinet. The mixed look of shame and anger on Gretchen's face softened Adyson somewhat.

"Gretch, it wasn't us that lost it. Calm down."

It was now Gretchen's turn to be nervous, and the sinister pose was lost as her voice became slightly shaky.

"Isabella has a genuine attachment to that trophy. What do you think she'll do to us for letting it get stolen on our watch?"

Adyson thought.

"_You're a loose cannon, Sweetwater! Goddamn, it's a media circus frenzy out there! I want your sash on my desk!"_

"Adyson! Pay attention!" Gretchen snapped.

"Sorry. You take these things too seriously Gretchen," Adyson said. "Come to think of it, you take everything too seriously."

"I happen to like being a Fireside Girl."

Adyson suddenly realised that she was still holding the carton of stagnating milk and discreetly placed it on one of the chairs in the hope that someone would sit on it later. Sighing, she began the long and likely fruitless search for her shoes. It was beginning to look like a long day, and there would be no arguing with Gretchen.

"We can't disappoint the Chief," Gretchen said slowly. "She has an ETA of two hours if we're running by the usual 'Big Idea' schedule, so if we're fast, we can retrieve the trophy before she notices anything."

Neither of the girls could look one another in the eye at the mention of Phineas' 'Big Ideas'. Ever since his return from a trip through time Phineas had been trying to get better, and he was at least more stable. However, his projects were becoming, for lack of a better word, pathetic. Some days he would merely sit and play video games, refusing to go outside. Other times he would rush out with the old energy, but the inventions were often poor imitations of previous triumphs and usually went unfinished.

Adyson knew that this was eating away at Ferb, who retained his past enthusiasm for building. To keep him occupied, she had requested he build her something according to her specifications. This project lay beneath the Flynn-Fletcher garage, worked on when Ferb was not caring for his brother.

Finding her shoes stuffed into the freezer for some reason, Adyson turned and grinned suddenly at her friend.

"Okay then Gretch. If it means that much to you, then… TO THE BIKES!"

* * *

"So, in the Lion King, Scar stands up for the working class and entitles everyone to a fair share, and he's the bad guy? Are we supposed to root for this kid, who's never worked a day in his life, help continue this cycle of regicide? I mean, what Scar did was bad, but it was necessary. Let's face the facts Gretch – Mufasa was crap."

The bikes sped down the road from Adyson's house, both girls pedalling furiously. Somehow, unfortunately, Adyson had the rare ability to talk no matter what task she was doing. While Gretchen had to focus on cycling in the intense heat, Adyson's speech pattern was not affected in the slightest.

"And don't get me started on the lions' breeding patterns, because Nala has got to be either Simba's sister or his cousin! What kind of message is that Disney? I might be animated by you, but yeesh. What do you think?"

"Keep… pedalling…"

"Where we goin' TC?"

"Suzy… Johnson. Good guess. Brother works at carnival. Ask him whereabouts."

Adyson laughed and held her breath violently, imitating Gretchen's red face.

"Gretchen. Talk. Like Hulk. When. Exercising."

Needless to say, Gretchen was not amused, but she did not have the energy to think of a sarcastic response. The bikes skidded dangerously to meet with the fast approaching kerb and both girls dismounted perilously in mid-air. While Gretchen chained the bikes up, Adyson examined the sign.

"The Mid-Summer Festival. This what you meant by carnival?"

"Affirmative," Gretchen gasped, doubled over and struggling to breathe. "Jeremy works at one of the stands."

"Y'know, I miss festivals with the Odd Ball Show. What happened to that?"

Gretchen caught up and walked into the festival with Adyson, fixing her beret and once again pushing the glasses back up the bridge of her nose.

"The owner was decapitated by a flying fish," she said, without a trace of humour.

"Shame. They used to have this big fat guy, I mean like orca fat, and he'd do ballet on a tightrope."

Gretchen was relieved once they caught sight of Jeremy Johnson at one of the stalls, as it meant that Adyson suddenly focused.

"How do you want to play this?"

"Hurm, investigate properly," said Gretchen, the detective part of her personality assuming direct control. "I'll ask the questions."

The girls waited patiently in the queue – or at least, Adyson did, happily humming and occasionally voicing some inane opinion. Gretchen's grimace was getting steadily worse. Thankfully, the service was fairly fast.

"Hey there," said Jeremy, smiling as always. "What can I get you?"

"You sure we want this guy?" Adyson asked in a stage whisper. "We have more character development than him, and we had like four lines in the actual show."

"Uh… can I help you girls? You kinda have to buy something…"

Gretchen ignored him and flipped open a notebook.

"Patch numbers 24601 and 655321, Fireside Girls. We're investigating the disappearance of an item from headquarters. Care to account for your whereabouts last night and this morning?"

Jeremy was rather bewildered by this point, but the girls seemed to be playing some sort of game, so he decided to run with it.

"Last night, me and Candace…"

"Candace and I," snapped Gretchen.

"Candace and I," Jeremy repeated, flinching at the sudden venom in Gretchen's voice. "We went to the cinema, then I dropped her off and went home. This morning I was sleeping, before coming here."

"Why are you lying to us Mister Johnson?" Adyson asked in a slow drawl.

"What?" Jeremy asked. "I have a line to keep up here, I need to move customers along!"

Gretchen nodded and Adyson vaulted the counter and grabbed the clerk by his novelty Festival tie.

"Listen up, my bishie friend. She asked you to account for your whereabouts."

Jeremy leaned back a little, and Adyson frowned suddenly.

"Didn't the Director kill you?"

"What are you talking about?" Jeremy exclaimed, looking genuinely worried now.

"She's mixed up in continuities," Gretchen explained with a wave of her hand. "She'll calm down in a minute. Now, my question."

"Okay, jeez! After I dropped Candace off and I went to the gas station because I had the munchies! Happy?"

"Not particularly, no. Where is your sister?"

"He's definitely dead," Adyson said, tapping on Jeremy's skull with her knuckles. "He must be a zombie!"

"Suzy's on vacation with my parents. I don't know anything about this! Just get her off of me!"

"Adyson, heel," Gretchen commanded, and the taller girl stood down. "Very well, my diabetes-inducing friend, we shall depart. You are no longer required."

"What are you selling anyway?" Adyson enquired, leaning back into the stall.

Still slightly intimidated, Jeremy mumbled about something about candyfloss and inflatables and was quiet.

"Cool. Can I have that big inflatable hammer please?" Without waiting for a reply, Adyson snatched the item and chased after Gretchen as Jeremy pondered a restraining order.

"What now?"

"Hurm," said Gretchen. "Suzy is no longer a valid suspect. Must investigate further. We'll have to visit someone who knows everyone."

The two girls looked at each other for a moment before reaching the same conclusion simultaneously.

"Ferb."

"Certainly."

The two set off from the festival, Adyson swinging her squeaky hammer the entire way, much to Gretchen's annoyance. The day was only getting warmer, and Gretchen suspected that there would be a storm soon.

* * *

Jeffville was the next town over from Danville, and was remarkably similar in its structure. Near the centre of the town stood Arkham Foster Home, a tall Victorian-style building that did its best to look child-friendly but failed, much like a clown hired for a birthday party. However, it was a genuinely nice home, mused Ferrea.

She hopped down from the windowsill she had been sitting on and made her way down the stairs. With a groan typical of him, she heard Fenris rise as well, and pad down behind her, his paws narrowly avoiding the sharp drop. Technically the children were not supposed to have pets, but the girl and the black Labrador had arrived together, and no one wanted to separate them.

"Ferrea… sorry, Lucy!" a voice called from the front of the home.

Ferrea was already in the room before the woman had turned around. As always, the woman jumped, before smiling her fake, fixed smile that Ferrea despised. The woman held out a white form.

"Guess this is that Fireside Girl exchange thing. You must have been selected. I filled out all the bits I need to. You'll need to sign it. Where are you going again?"

Lucy Ferrea took the form and signed it rapidly, handing it back to the woman before smiling politely.

"Danville."

With that, she stepped out and headed upstairs to her bedroom, which she shared with three others. It was not pleasant. From underneath her bed she pulled out a cell phone that only had one number on it. She dialled.

"…Ferrea?"

"Yes. How are you all?"

"Fine, thank you."

"I have been selected," Lucy said calmly. "Next week, I'm headed to Danville."

"Of course you were selected, remember who we are," snapped one of the people at the other end.

"So, the bunker should be untouched?" Lucy asked, ignoring the rude man.

"Indeed," said a cooler voice. "No matter how the rest of Smile Away crumbles, that bunker will be untouched. The Rapture machines should be inside. Goodbye."

Ferrea looked at her phone for a moment, before shrugging at turning to Fenris, who sat in the doorway, head tilted quizzically.

"Listen to them," she said, smiling coldly. "They think they're in charge. We have more important things to do, don't we?"

Fenris' tail wagged in agreement.

"I'm looking forward to meeting you, Phineas Flynn."

* * *

**So. Many. Shout Outs and references. Head exploding. Thanks for reading! The update schedule is going to be fairly erratic for a while - this will be the only chapter for several weeks I think, what with holidays and such. Just so you don't think I'm dead. The Smile Away council people are not nearly as important to this story as they may seem - Ferrea is the Big Bad. See you next time.**


	2. The Mysterious Stranger

**Hello again! I'll be away for a couple of weeks after this, so I won't be able to reply to any review questions until then. Anyway, enjoy, and if you're of a squeamish nature, skip the section in italics. It's not pleasant.**

**2 - The Mysterious Stranger**

_**In which Ferb regrets Love Actually, Gretchen regrets everything, and Adyson regrets her inability to control the power of Thor.**_

* * *

When Gretchen had suspected that there was storm coming soon, she had severely underestimated just how soon. The sky above the two girls had suddenly become enveloped by a grey blanket, and slowly, warm and heavy drops of rain began to thud down onto the streets of Danville.

The universe loved to annoy Gretchen. Her bike repeatedly skidded in the increasing torrent while Adyson unconcernedly wheeled past doing a handstand on the handlebars of her bike. Suddenly, the ground slipped from under Gretchen's front wheel, sending the bike crashing into Adyson's. As she flew through the air, Gretchen could not help but feel that someone was mocking her.

She managed to land face first in the largest pot-hole possible, submerging her head in disgustingly-coloured rainwater.

"I wonder if I should just lie here," she muttered to herself. "Things cannot possibly get any worse."

Of course, being underwater, the sentence was not nearly as coherent, and sounded more like a particularly aggrieved ostrich than a cynical teenager. Gretchen groaned as something repeatedly smacked into the back of her head, accompanied by an obnoxious squeaking sound. Raising her head from the surprisingly deep puddle, she glared at Adyson, who paused in swinging the inflatable hammer for a moment.

"What?" asked Adyson, miraculously uninjured. "You crashed into me. Last time I let you cycle after drinking. Nearly knocked my head – I had to check if I still thought in text!"

Gretchen rolled out of the pot-hole and onto the warm damp tarmac, swearing in her internal monologue, but looking very calm on the outside. Adyson nearly doubled over with laughter – Gretchen reminded her of a cat that had done something incredibly stupid, and in true feline fashion, was pretending it never happened.

"Jacket?" asked a voice suddenly. "Or towel, if you're coming inside."

Ferb Fletcher stood on the pavement in front of his house, the trace of a smile evident on his face. Under his umbrella he held two raincoats, apparently having seen the crash. Adyson stepped under the cover while Gretchen struggled to move.

"Now why would you be out, Ferb?" Adyson probed. "Got a British flag in your garden you were going to salute, and just happened across us?"

Ferb merely smirked in response and tilted the umbrella so that all the water ran directly onto Adyson in a wave.

"Flag saluting," muttered Gretchen, more to herself than Ferb and Adyson. "Show me a patriot, and I'll show you an idiot."

"Sorry to disappoint," said Ferb, "But I came out because I saw the crash. Would you like to come in?"

Both girls nearly tumbled over each other in a desperate attempt to reach the dry indoors. Both of them crashed into the door before Ferb unlocked it with the same half-smile on his features. As a model example of the host, he had tea set out for guests. _Then again_, thought Adyson, _he's British, so he probably always has tea set out_. She grinned broadly as she made herself welcome on the couch. Gretchen hovered awkwardly nearby, refusing to take a seat.

"Jumped any ticket barriers lately Ferb?" Adyson drawled lazily.

Ferb had no idea what Adyson was talking about, which was fairly normal, so he only smiled in response. In the process of wringing out her beret, Gretchen addressed their would-be 'saviour'.

"We don't have enough time on our schedule to make with the pleasantries. Mr Fletcher, where were you last night and early this morning, hurm?"

Ferb shrugged and gestured all around himself, indicating that he had remained at the house. His only real reaction to the strange question was a raised eyebrow, but then, he thought, Gretchen and Adyson were very strange people.

"Seen Liam Neeson recently?" pressed Adyson.

Another rise of the eyebrow, and Gretchen muttered something under her breath before continuing. The squeaky hammer went squeak, much to everyone's annoyance.

"Do you have any information regarding the whereabouts of the Swamp Oil 500 trophy?"

"Isabella has it," Ferb remarked, but there was a tinge of doubt.

"Nope," chirped Adyson. "It's gone, vamoosed, ceased to be in our cabinet. It is an ex-trophy."

"Adyson suggested coming here because you know everyone," Gretchen said, now hovering over the couch but still neglecting to actually sit down. "Not 'know' in the biblical sense, but one hears rumours. Any leads? Suspicious characters?"

"Tales of romance at Christmas where the brave British kid chases after the American girl at the airport?"

Ferb ignored Adyson and thought carefully. The tea sat untouched, steam rising to the roof and coiling together. Suddenly his brown eyes flashed with intelligence and the confidence of resolution.

"Perhaps," he said, "instead of looking for someone who knows everything, you should look for someone who sees everything."

The two girls glanced at one another, the inkling of understanding finally dawning on them both. _Of course_, thought Gretchen. _There was really no other possible suspect._

"Excellent," Gretchen said, her fingers in a steeple once more. The glasses flashed dangerously. "Adyson when we get there, we shall split up. You are aware of the procedure. Mr Fletcher, thank you for your hospitality, and the tea, we'll bid you adieu."

Ferb shrugged. Phineas was at the therapist, so he hadn't missed anything anyway. He waved a hand as Gretchen more or less darted out of the house.

"See you round, Love Actually," Adyson smirked, following after the girl who was technically her subordinate.

"Do you want to see the project?" Ferb called after her.

Adyson stopped in her tracks, looking over her shoulder. She looked fairly disappointed.

"I'd love to, but it's Gretch, you know…"

Ferb nodded in understanding. Adyson flashed another grin.

"I'll come see it tomorrow."

* * *

The doorbell echoed throughout the house, and Irving cursed his lack of foresight. He really should have placed cameras on his front doorstep, rather than just everywhere else. There was a creak as his mother answered the door, followed by the sound of muffled voices. It must have been raining quite heavily, given the noise, but he had been unaware of this, sitting in his basement 'command centre' as he was.

"Irving, there's a girl here for you!"

_Crap._

He pushed all of his surveillance notes from the desk and rummaged frantically around in the drawer. In his haste he nearly knocked over the Swamp Oil trophy, catching it desperately by sticking his foot in the cup and balancing on the other leg. With a cry of some success, he found what he was looking for and rushed in among the jungle of machinery, relics and mementos cluttering the basement. He would get them by surprise.

"I'm sending her down, Irving!"

"Thanks mom!"

_Stupid inator. How do you work…_

Someone reached the bottom of the wooden steps. If Irving had been less occupied, he might have heard a noise at the hurricane doors too.

"Irving," called Gretchen's voice. "Come on out and… what is this place?"

Irving moved along behind the machinery, hidden from view, crouching.

"Not all of Phineas and Ferb's stuff disappears at the end of the day. If it stays, and they're done with it, I get to keep it! At least, I did before Phineas got all depressed…"

The technophile in Gretchen had forced her to halt and examine the various screens. Irving had a camera placed in nearly every spot in Danville, much like the Fireside Girls. He also appeared to have hacked into the Fireside Girl cameras, as many of the views were familiar to her.

"What's this machine?" Gretchen asked, fully aware that Irving could see her.

"It's Phineas and Ferb's robot maker, you know, Phineadroids and Ferbots? Ferb tinkered with them a bit and they got scarily realistic. Even with a four day lifespan, they're a bit creepy. It's not just Phineas and Ferb's stuff I get…" he concluded ominously.

Gretchen sighed before straightening up.

"Irving, just hand it over, and we'll forget all about it."

"No!" snapped the boy. "It's mine, mine, mine! It still has Phineas' scent on it!"

Large sniffing sounds could be heard coming from his general direction. Gretchen would have liked to condemn this as unnerving, but the truth was that she had seen Isabella do the exact same thing to the trophy and had not passed comment then. Perhaps it was just what people did these days.

Suddenly, Irving leaped from behind a pile of wires, trophy in one hand and threatening looking device in the other. He brandished the ray gun-shaped gadget in Gretchen's general direction. The bespectacled girl lazily raised her hands, smirking slightly.

"Behold!" Irving cried triumphantly. "The Memory-Eraser-inator! I found it smashed under that big purple building in town and salvaged it from various different pieces in case of emergency! That's what I do for entertainment!"

"We must have been separated at birth," Gretchen remarked.

The hurricane doors creaked slightly. No-one noticed. In the distance, muffled thunder could be heard.

"All I need to do," Irving exposited, "Is think of the trophy, aim at you, and you'll forget all about it! Why does Isabella deserve it anyway? I'm just as loyal!"

Gretchen shrugged, smirk still imprinted on her already-smug features. All the preliminary conditions had been met. There was only one possible outcome.

Irving levelled the inator and aimed carefully, letting out a long breath. He grinned as Gretchen fell directly in the sights.

"Don't worry," he assured her. "It's nothing personal, and you won't miss the trophy anyway."

He prepared to pull the trigger. Thunder boomed, much closer than before.

"I SAY THEE NAY!"

"What the h…AAAAAH!" Irving cried, turning, and screaming in terror at the thing bearing down at him.

Some huge weapon swung with a definite finality. Irving's screaming was cut off. There was a loud squeaking noise, followed by Adyson's laughter.

"So says Adyson," she declared, raising the squeaky hammer above her head. "So says the god of thunder!"

"Hurm," said Gretchen. "Well done, I suppose."

Gretchen crossed the room and picked both the trophy and the inator from where the terrified Irving had dropped them. The boy stood up, looking distinctly annoyed.

"Not bair," he said, hand covering his mouth. "I just wanded de trophy…"

"Pardon?" Gretchen asked.

"Are you okay?" Adyson seconded.

"No!" the muffled snap came. "Hib me righb in de nobe with squeaky hamma… Bleeding now…"

Sure enough, Irving's nose was bleeding. Adyson murmured her apologies for striking him with the hammer, but the boy quickly cheered up once the bleeding stopped. The girls hung around awkwardly waiting before he could speak properly again.

"Ow, it's alright I guess," he said, flopping into his swivel chair. "You win. Take it back. You have some time before Isabella gets back anyway."

"How?"

"She always takes Phineas to the therapist, don't you know?" Iving looked up hopefully. "Am I getting let off easily?"

"Not at all," Gretchen smiled, the glasses flashing once again. "I want you to provide extra surveillance and access to this tech for Adyson and I."

"Why Gretch?" Adyson asked, confused.

"You can never be over-prepared," replied her friend.

"Or what?" The annoyance was strong in Irving's voice, and understandably so. He found Gretchen very presumptuous and demanding.

"Or I'll tell Isabella," Gretchen said slowly, letting the threat hand in the air.

Irving gulped audibly, and swivelled back to face the screens.

"Right-o. Gretchen. Gretchen, busy working for Gretchen…"

"Can we go now, Gretch?" Adyson was waiting at the steps that lead up from the basement.

"Our business here is concluded. Case closed. Returning to headquarters."

Gretchen actually smiled as she rode her bike back to the lodge. Even though it was raining, even though Adyson was loudly imitating the soundtrack from some Japanese film and even though she crashed several times, Gretchen was in a good mood. Any possible repercussions had been avoided.

* * *

_The girl loves animals. She has as long as she can remember. Granted, this is not a long time. She is only six years old after all._

_Animals are silent – there's an understanding in their eyes, and a complete lack of intentional cruelty. In that way, they remind her of angels. Born without sin, and unable to commit it because they have no concept of it. This must be why, she reasons, Satan resists God. If he cannot understand his sin, then how can he ever tone for it? _

_She would like to have a connection with the dogs that roam the house, but frankly, they scare her. They are attack and guard dogs after all. Alsatians and Dobermans, all of them. If she gets a dog, she would like something gentler._

_One of the dogs is pregnant. The birth is messy, bloody and smells horribly. Father makes her assist naturally. Eight puppies, pink, blind and helpless suckle at the exhausted bitch while the girl cleans blood out of the carpet._

"_Look at them," her father says. "Straight out of the gate, the struggle for survival has begun."_

"_But they can all get their fair share," she replies, with the assurance of the very young._

"_No," he states. "The weak will be pushed aside. Such is the world in which they live. It does not have to be this way for people. But if the weak are to survive at all, they need to be under the protection of the strong. Against their will if necessary."_

_She scratches her head, auburn hair suddenly matted with canine blood._

"_So will one of the big puppies help his brother?"_

_Her father laughs – a deep booming chuckle devoid of any warmth or actual amusement. He leans forward in his chair, pointing a huge finger towards one of the struggling pink newborns._

"_That one is a runt. It will be pushed aside by all, until someone takes it in, or it dies."_

_She stands up, determination flashing from green eyes. Blood trickles down from her hair onto her face._

"_I can look after it. I'm strong…"_

"_No," Father responds. "Sometimes the strong know when to act. Some of the weak will reject the plans of the strong."_

"_B-but the puppy won't! I'll love him and walk him…"_

"_It's a runt. It needs to be put down. It will never amount to anything."_

"_No, it's…" she stammers, struggling with the formation of a sentence. She is not used to speaking so much. "It could amont to…"_

"_Amount," corrects her father._

"_Amount to be my friend…" she trails off, suddenly very unsure of herself._

"_Kill it."_

_The girl flinches and nearly stumbles backwards. She can feel blood encrusting around her feet. It is not quite solid – when she moves, it clings and squelches underneath her. She makes a desperate noise with her throat, tears welling up quickly._

"_You said protect the weak," she pleads. "I don't want to…"_

"_And some of the weak need to know when to follow orders. Kill it now."_

_The runt has squirmed away from its siblings. Its tiny, almost rubbery-looking head bobs up and down as it squeals, the general complaint of all newborns filling the air. It has nudged against her feet. She looks down at it._

"_Dad, please, it's a puppy… I'll look after it all by myself and feed it and wash it and walk it…"_

"_You must follow orders given to you. If you do not, you can never be part of society. You will not be a daughter."_

_She closes her eyes hard, tears bursting out from the edges. Taking a deep breath, she raises an already sullied foot. Letting out a little sound, she brings her foot decisively, irreversibly down. _

* * *

"I dream about spiders," mumbled Phineas, shifting in the uncomfortable chair and avoiding all eye contact.

Doctor Braun made a sound like a door opening – a slow, rumbling vocalisation that either displayed interest or dismay. The therapist also shifted in his seat, trying to catch the boy's attention, in the hope that eye contact could finally be made.

"What kind of spiders Phineas?"

"Big ones," the boy replied. "Tiny bodies. Long spiky legs. They're always moving. Crawling out. Upside down, advancing."

"Coming towards you?" Braun asked.

Phineas shook his head. Hair that was getting too long fell out of place, covering his once bright blue eyes. Isabella would mention that he needed a haircut, in an attempt to be subtly that would doubtlessly be very heavy-handed. She was waiting for him just outside the room.

"I can see them from the side. They go from right to left. At eye level. They come out of a drain, but it's on the ceiling, and they just keep coming…"

"Like, ah, a procession you mean?"

Not at the same time," Phineas mumbled again, but this time with a degree of annoyance evident. "Like layered over one another. Different speeds, overlapping, never touching, always moving right to left…"

Braun sighed and looked at his watch. It was time to wrap up his session, but as was normal with the Flynn boy, the doctor disliked sending his patient away. Phineas seemed too broken to leave alone. Not in a suicidal fashion, or even as a danger to others, but there was very little left of the original personality. Phineas Flynn was little more than a shell, even after a year of therapy.

"We'll talk next week Phineas," the doctor said. "I promise we'll get to the root of this."

Phineas looked very small, almost receding into the chair.

"What you promise and what usually happens are often completely different things."

He walked home with Isabella and his mother, but he barely noticed either of them.

* * *

**Yeesh, mood whiplash downer ending or what? Anyway, thanks for reading. The writing's starting to take shape again, but as said above, it'll be a few weeks before chapter 3 'Antagonists, Assemble!' is released. You'll notice that Gretchen is kind of a jerkass. I like writing a jerkass. It's not like she has much to go on in canon anyway. Once again, a hell of a lot of shout-outs. We'll finally get a proper arc going soon, I promise! Adieu.**


	3. Antagonists, Assemble!

**Hey hey kids! I'll admit this chapter seems a little schiz to me, but that's probably because it took me longer than usual for reasons I'll go into at my usual filibuster at the end. **

* * *

"Ready?" asked Patient 27.

"Uh, I suppose, but I'd like the, uh, confirmation that this isn't sinful," said Patient 28, wavering nervously.

27 sighed loudly and put his arm around his twin's shoulder. He held out his hand in front of them, gesturing to the hotel lobby that was in no way relevant to the argument he was about to present.

"Look at it this way." 27 ran his hand through his hair. "Smile Away is always right, right?"

"Right." 28 nodded.

"So, if Smile Away is always right, and it orders us to do something that is wrong…" he made a circular motion with his hand, indicating that his twin was to finish the sentence.

"…then it's…no longer wrong?" 28 asked, still jittering but now with a pale, unsure smile plastered onto his pale, unsure face. His speech was always peppered with awkward pauses, but his singing voice was something to behold.

Both of them had been choirboys, and still were to an extent. It wasn't as if either of them had chosen this path, and now they had no choice. Their aunt would routinely make them sing in front of the other council members. Outside of these mocking 'concerts', the two were routinely ridiculed for their high-pitched voices.

"You're what, thirteen?" One man had laughed. "You sound like two eight year old girls!"

It wasn't their fault, thought 27. Their voices would have broken otherwise.

They were not simply performers, however. The two were the remnants of the patients, which had run all the way to patient number 42 before the Danville incident. 27 and 28 were little more than slaves.

"Here," said 28, changing the subject as they approached the elevator. "They might, uh, be sending us to Danville, to keep an eye on…Lucy."

"She the one from the original Smile Away?"

"I, ah, think so. She was the only one that didn't sound funny, remember?"

"I can see her now you mention it," 27 said as the doors shut at a snail's pace.

"Why did they all sound, uh, rough and horrible for kids?"

27 laughed bitterly. "The electroshock machines," he said, shaking a shaven head. "The screaming eventually done a number on their throats. Remember Rains? He sounded like he'd swallowed a cheese grater."

28 laughed at the image that phrase conjured in his mind, but the nagging presence of sin was always hanging at the back of his head. 28 had decided that sin could be narrowed down to the opposite of anything in 'The Ten Commandments', and not, as his brother claimed, 'anything a Catholic does'. 28 had never knowingly met a Catholic, but his brother had told him they were Not Protestant, and therefore, sinful. In short, the world of sin was very confusing for 28. Killing however, had to be a sin.

"What's in the cart?" 28 asked.

"Axes," 27 grunted as he cocked his pistol. "Got to cut the bastard up when we're done. Send a message."

The man in question was one of the council – he had recently been at the centre of some tabloid-worthy scandal, and while this wasn't usually Smile Away's concern, they did not appreciate snooping reporters. The man's death would be attributed to drug use or suicide, and his family would be given an empty coffin to bury.

The elevator doors shuddered open noisily, and 27 pushed the laundry cart out into the hall, 28 following behind. Room 101 rapidly approached, and the pair stopped outside, glancing at their guns. 27 checked his watch.

"Hang back a minute. We're early."

28 leaned against the cart, intent on letting 27 do the actual work in order to minimise responsibility for the killing.

"Are you using, uh, monocane again?" 28 asked suddenly.

27 self-consciously covered the track marks on his arm and realised how pale his skin had become.

"Smile Away promotes it!" he snapped defensively. "Screw the time. We'll go now."

27 knocked angrily against the door, louder than was necessary. He could feel his brother's eyes on the back of his head, silently judging him. It wasn't fair, he thought – he never judged anyone, except Catholics, but all he heard from his brother were lectures about sin.

"Who is it?" called a thin voice from behind the door.

"27 and 28 sir. Cleaning the bed sheets and such."

"Oh, right. The Irish kids."

"Northern Irish," 27 muttered poisonously.

There was a short pause before they heard a click and the door opened. 28 waved lazily and turned his head away from the spectacle as 27 pulled the trigger.

28 waited until he heard the thump as the body hit the ground before he looked. 27 tossed him an axe after a short rummage through the laundry.

"They're gonna present him at the meeting later today, so hurry up."

"I don't want to…"

"Come on, I'll help. Sing. It'll distract you. I'll be right beside you."

28 brought the axe down, closing his eyes at each impact. His brother _was_ right beside him. And the singing did help mask the deed. Perhaps it wasn't _that_ great a sin after all. He would never disobey Smile Away anyway.

"And he will raise you up on eagle's wings…"

"Bear you on the breath of dawn…"

"Make you to shine like the sun…"

"And hold you in the palm of his hand…"

Their singing carried throughout the hotel. The council agreed on one thing – it was beautiful. And they were all impressed with the handiwork when it was presented. 27 and 28 would prove excellent agents if they were needed to rein in Ferrea.

* * *

"Another one?" asked the detective.

The coroner glanced at the body, and nodded glumly.

"Looks like our boy: throat slit left-to-right, evisceration, trophy-taking… I'll be sure to tick all the usual boxes when we put her on a slab downtown."

The detective was no stranger to violence, or even complete slaughter, but the case was taking its toll on her. It had dragged on for more than a year now, and some suspected even before that, and all the police had to go on was nine more corpses. The first five had been left in specific locations, creating a huge pentagram on the map of Danville, and it looked as if the killer was aiming to do the same with the next ones.

Of course now, the detective thought bitterly, the killer had moved onto home invasion. It was the same modus operandi, the same type of women, but it was becoming evident that the killer, whom the press had affectionately and inaccurately dubbed 'The Danville Dracula' in the belief that he drank blood, was becoming increasingly interested in stealing house keys and entering in the dead of night.

The detective pointed to the track marks on the dead girl's arms.

"Tragic, huh? You see more and more everyday. Easy prey for our guy, I think."

"Not really," said the coroner. "Those aren't heroin injection marks. See how pale she is, even for a stiff? Her eyes are black too. That's monocane."

"Monocane?"

"That place, Smile Away, I think… Yeah, Smile Away – they used dilute solutions to make the kids more violent, while keeping them under control with that other drug I've forgotten the name of. Anyway, people ransacked the building after, so monocane's everywhere for now. The stuff's too low a concentration to OD on, even in a massive dose."

"Hang on, I've heard of it before. Jack Griffin, right?"

"Yeah. That's why you don't want to OD. OD on heroin – it'll be more pleasant!"

The coroner laughed at his joke and wheeled the body out, leaving the detective on her own.

* * *

"I know this is a stupid question before I ask it," Isabella said correctly, "but why are you hanging upside down?"

Adyson rotated slowly, the rope becoming ever more tangled around her leg, blushing furiously as she always was when Isabella was present.

"Chief! Heh, Gretchen strung me up for turning the CCTV off again. She says you've not to cut me down because I won't learn anything if you do."

Isabella furrowed her brow, before shrugging and opening the door to the lodge. Adyson continued to spin from the rope as the door closed. She mentally cursed herself for looking stupid in front of Isabella, but was still enjoying the novelty of hanging upside down. She realised suddenly that if Isabella was present, especially in recent times, something was going on.

Isabella flopped into her swivel chair, the force of the act propelling her over to the monitors where Gretchen perched obsessively, green lines of code reflected in her glasses. Isabella coughed to bring the smaller girl out of her trance.

"Chief. I was not aware of your presence. I can only assume you have come because of the exchange programme."

Isabella was about to answer when she realised Gretchen had not been asking a question, just stating what was already known.

"I told everyone to be here," Isabella complained, glancing around. "I know you and Adyson are always here, but where's everyone else?"

"This is everyone else," Gretchen replied, eyes still glued to the computer screen, which Isabella slyly noted was merely playing solitaire in a complicated-looking way. "Katie and Ginger departed the organisation. Milly is in Jeffville, being our part of the exchange, and Holly is here somewhere."

"I'm over here," whispered a voice in the wall.

"Holly?" Isabella asked, looking around in confusion.

"I'm going for the stealth patch," the voice said. "Just don't lean against the walls in case you punch or elbow my face."

"Right," Isabella drawled, and decided to change the subject. Unfortunately Gretchen was the only person genuinely available, so no conversation sprang up for some time.

"Chief, I've discovered some inconsistencies with your behaviour." Another statement.

Isabella raised an eyebrow. "Hmm?"

Gretchen had switched to minesweeper now, still not looking at her superior.

"Your objective to become close to Phineas. It has been achieved. Why do you persist in keeping company with him?"

Isabella rolled her eyes and looked at the ceiling. It would be extremely difficult to explain such things to Gretchen. Actually, Adyson had once said that explaining attraction and compassion to Gretchen would be like explaining colours to a man blind since birth. There was no point in pursuing the matter, Isabella thought. Silence filled the clubhouse.

Outside, Adyson struggled in vain to reach the rope tied around her leg. The blood had long since rushed to her head and was making her feel slightly dizzy. And possibly delirious, as she kept hearing someone yelling 'Akira' at her.

"Who the hell is Akira…" she muttered, before realising that there was someone there. "Ah… heh… hello."

The stranger looked at Adyson, expression unreadable. Slowly and awkwardly, a hand was extended. Adyson merely looked at it.

"Could I shake your hand when I get down? My co-ordination's off a bit, so I'd probably accidentally jab you in the face."

"Do you need help?" the new girl asked, looking extremely bewildered.

"No, I planned to hang around all day."

The strange girl stared blankly.

"That was sarcasm," Adyson groaned.

"…Oh, I see," said the new girl. "You stated the opposite of the outcome you actually wanted, for comic effect."

"…What."

"So you actually want down?" the girl asked, and pulled at the rope on Adyson's foot.

Adyson landed on the wood with a painful thud. Steadying herself, she finally managed to look at the newcomer properly.

"Are you well? Why were you hanging there? Is that common in Danville? I'm Ferrea by the way, Lucy Ferrea, the exchange programme sent me."

"I'm Adyson," came the reply, because Adyson had only caught the last part. Lucy talked very quickly.

Lucy Ferrea was dressed in buttoned black overcoat and carrying what looked to be a briefcase. Adyson didn't know that they _made_ briefcases anymore. The smiling face and red hair atop the black coat jarred considerably, and Adyson's first impression was of a well-adjusted girl pretending to be an exorcist.

Something sniffed down at their feet, and Adyson was suddenly subjected to the attentions of an excited black Labrador pup, which pawed at her leg for attention. Kneeling down, Adyson ruffled the surprisingly thick fur, earning looks of approval from both dog and owner.

"This is my friend Fenris," Lucy explained. "He likes you, but he's a Labrador, so he likes everyone.

Adyson looked up from her kneeled position, still scratching the dog behind its ears.

"Just so you know, if you don't get sarcasm, you might not want to talk to Gretchen. Your head might explode."

The confused look was back. "Really? How does that work?"

Adyson was about to open her mouth to mock this lack of understanding, but caught herself and knocked on the door. She thought that Lucy was too earnest to make fun of. It would yield little amusement.

The door slid back and Isabella's head jutted out, looking around. An outstretched hand nearly poked her in the eye.

"From your uniform, you're in charge. I'm Lucy."

Isabella glanced down at Adyson for some sort of guidance. The kneeling girl shrugged.

"She's Lucy," Adyson said unhelpfully.

Contrary to the assumptions of Baljeet and Gretchen, Isabella was far from stupid. She realised exactly who the strange girl was immediately after processing the bizarre scene. She shook the hand in what she thought and intended was a warm and friendly way, but ended up rather awkward.

"Isabella. I suppose I'm in charge. Come on in."

"She's the Chief," Adyson said, almost shyly. Ferrea noted this for future reference.

The three girls entered the cabin, Fenris running excitedly through their legs to explore his new surroundings.

Gretchen did not approve.

It was bad enough that a new person was present, Gretchen thought, bringing in countless germs, but a dog would bring in even more. The new girl smiled at her genuinely, so Gretchen immediately found her irritating. In fact, there were already several things Gretchen found supremely annoying about the person she had not yet met; she owned a pet, and Gretchen was not fond of animals; she looked vaguely like a giant spider with her long arms and legs; one hand was always placed in her pocket; and, most heinous of all, she had the same number of patches as Gretchen herself.

"Hi, I'm-"

"Lucy Ferrea," said Gretchen. "I know. We have cameras." She eyed the outstretched hand. "Traditionally people shake with their right hands."

Lucy shrugged, completely unfazed.

"Sorry, but people don't like my right hand much. Besides, with the nerve damage, it is completely useless."

The right arm shifted and Gretchen caught a glimpse of a hand dominated by an ugly black scar in the palm, where something had very obviously impaled the entire hand. Gretchen accepted this turn of events, as she assumed that the right hand would be unclean and horrible to touch.

"Gretchen."

Lucy tilted her head. "The sarcastic one? Were you being sarcastic at all in this meeting, because I may have missed it?"

The rapid speech was quickly added to Gretchen's list of Things To Hate About The New Girl. She wondered if Lucy was making fun of her.

Isabella sighed as Gretchen swivelled away from Lucy and back to the computers.

"You'll have to forgive Gretchen. She seems sociopathic at first, but she's not. We had her tested."

"But you can't diagnose sociopathy until the age of eighteen," chirped Adyson, "So, the doctor was just unable to clarify."

"Notice me shaking with laughter," Gretchen said.

"But you're not shaking," observed Lucy. "You appear to be very rigid though. You could relax. Many people find spending time with friends, sport, and a healthy diet make for a more relaxed life."

"You read that from the obligatory healthy lifestyle poster on the wall, didn't you?" Gretchen said, the trace of a smile appearing.

"It doesn't cite its sources, but we could test it."

They had a fondness for trial and error testing. Perhaps the new girl was not so bad.

"You'll be staying in the spare room at my house," Isabella said. "Milly's parents are on vacation. And I can tell what you're about to say, yes, the dog can come. I have a dog as well. He's getting old though."

Lucy smiled her thanks, but her mind was wandering back to an unpleasant conversation she had endured on arrival. She had asked Smile Away if there were any useful contacts in Danville.

They had said that, yes, there was one.

Suzy Johnson had been compromised. One contact remained. Even the council had advised extreme caution.

Because girls who encountered Mr Fox did not tend to come back.

Lost in her thoughts, she leaned against the wall, only to jump forward suddenly. Adyson and Isabella laughed, having realised the problem.

"What was that?"

"That," said a muffled voice. "Was my face. Pleased to meet you."

* * *

**28's dialogue should be read as a Jeff Goldblum impression, if Jeff Goldblum was Northern Irish. Which he is not. Similarly, read Ferrea's speech as fast as you can. The reason for the time taken to write this was that I didn't know how to reintroduce Leather Apron/Mr Fox properly. I started with a section following him as he enters someone's house at night, but creepy as it was, it wasn't necessary. So he's unseen in this chapter - I feel he's more effective with fewere appearances. After all, of all the villains, he probably has the least amont of appearances, unless you count Sawney, Cesare Borgia and (possibly) Crowley. I think we'll have a Candace appearance soon - she's not a major player, but she's fun to write. Until next time, insert-something-Stan-Lee-would-say-here!**


	4. The Spider And The Fly

**Hello again. Welcome back to the strangest story on the archive! Sadly, I was unable to fit any Candace into this chapter. Or much humour for that matter.**

**4 - The Spider And The Fly**

_**In which Gretchen is unsurprisingly rude and obnoxious, Fenris goes for a walk, Loki breaks his chains, and the reader realises that the author forgot the 'in which' section in the last chapter.**_

* * *

_Every t__wo hours she is the Voice of Fate. She rarely sees the rest of the facility, or the other children. She stays in her father's office, or is taken down to the bunker for tests. She doesn't like the doctors. They are cold and piercing. Even her father gets angry. But the doctors just do their job, without comment or complaint._

_She likes Napier. He is in the office next door. He has a bowl of sweets for children who come to see him. Theses days, he tells her, all the children report to her father. She is the only one he sees anymore._

_The other children cannot go home. She knows they are mostly homeless, orphaned or have been placed by the state for criminal behaviour. She can see out of her father's window that overlooks the living quarters. There are screens on the wall displaying security footage from all over the complex. She is now able to recognise certain pupils, and clarifies their names with a look in the files._

_Her father has taken the new pupils to the river. It has been two hours._

_She is the Voice of Fate._

"_Good evening Smile Away," she says. She has to keep her voice clear and strict. "This is the Voice of Fate, on the first of August, in the sixteenth year of our institution. Respect the doctors you pass in the corridor, and remember – Ironside is always watching…"_

_She realises that someone is in the room with her. _

_He's fast. The microphone falls from her hand as she instinctively lashes out. He swats her aside with ease and reaches for the microphone._

_"__Tonight," he says. " You're going to be part of a social experiment… Aheheh. Remember kids, slit your wrists down the ways, not across! Please keep your hands and feet in your cells, unless you want them ripped off, in which case, go ahead – ze dogs are hungry. Aheheh. We have some intruders…"_

"_Intruders?" she gasps. "We can't have…"_

"_Believe it…" he begins, and stops. "You're a girl?"_

"_My father just left…his office… he'll be back soon… I…"_

_The boy frowns, squeezing any reflected light from his black eyes. He looks as though he could be handsome, she thinks, but the eyes ruin it._

"_Your… father? Aheh. Heheh. Ironside? Ironside. And some woman. I can't tell if that's disgusting or hilarious." He lifts the communicator from his belt holds the button. "Hey Ironside, you didn't tell me you had a daughter! Also, can I kill her?"_

"_No," snaps the voice. Father's voice. "If you need the speakers, use them. Leave the girl alone."_

_She smiles in relief. The boy seems disappointed momentarily, but then loses interest and fiddles around with the speakers, blaring music and shouting at intruders that she has not seen. She watches him for a while, trying to put a name to the face. Snow? Jon Snow, something like that. Something weather related._

_Eventually he gets bored with the microphone, and tries to examine the CCTV footage. She hovers behind him nervously, catching a glimpse of a small party running across one screen. She remembers one face – it is Phineas Flynn, one of the subjects of the propaganda. He is evil, and a criminal-in-waiting._

_The boy has also seen something. His face looks softer, kinder. His grin has lost the malicious edge._

"_You want the mic?"_

_She nods._

"_Doubleplusgood. You can have it when I'm done. Keep up."_

"_I'm not allowed to leave the office."_

"_Your loss."_

_He sprints from the office, excited, while she sits and stares at the carpet. Something within her rises to the surface. She is the Voice of Fate. She speaks every two hours. No exceptions._

_She chases after him and finds the microphone abandoned on one of the walkways. There is no sign of the boy or the intruders. Phineas Flynn. She wonders why he was here._

_It is only when she returns to the office that she learns the truth._

_Flynn has been in the office. _

_He has stolen something._

_And her father knows. _

_She hears that the boy (his name is Rains, not Snow) gets the worst of it. Arms and legs snapped. She thinks her punishment is worse._

_She has to be present for Mr Fox's visit._

* * *

"Lucy?" The voice was accompanied by knocking on the bathroom door. "Other people need to brush their teeth!"

Lucy's eyes snapped open and she realized that she had been leaning her head against the mirror for nearly twenty minutes. She swallowed nervously before the mask slid back into place and her lazy smile returned.

"Just a short space of time!"

"I think the phrase is 'just a moment' or 'just a second'."

Lucy had heard the expression before, but from experience had gathered that this tended to be a very inaccurate measurement of how long the speaker was going to take.

Isabella tapped her imaginary watch in a joking manner when the door opened, but it was apparent that Lucy did not understand. The auburn girl merely nodded and allowed her host into the bathroom.

Ferrea crossed the hall to the spare room, ignoring Fenris and Pinky, who were sniffing at one another curiously.

"How are you settling in Lucy?" asked Vivian Garcia-Shapiro, carrying a rather large bundle of washing up the stairs.

"Fine, Mrs Garcia Shapiro," Ferrea said in the sing-song way she had been taught. She waited until the fat, irritating woman disappeared down the hall before entering her new room. Fenris padded in beside her

"The old men want to advance the schedule Fenris," she sighed. She knew that talking in a normal voice was less likely to attract listeners than a whisper. Besides, she would be able to hear Isabella leave the bathroom. "They've sent quite a few messages already. These things take time."

Fenris cocked his head, and remained unsurprisingly silent. The wagging tail however, indicated that he did not care about or understand her position. The eternally happy pup was hard to get angry at, Lucy mused.

"Ah, it doesn't matter," she said, grabbing the dog and playfully messing with his fur. "We have to develop a plan first, don't we? Yes we do, yes we do! Who's the puppy, who's the…"

She looked up, glad that no one had been around to witness the momentary lapse in proper etiquette. The bathroom door was opening. Lucy opened her suitcase and pretended to be sorting her clothes. The door creaked open.

"Lucy," said Isabella, head peering around the door. "I know you're in a different room and all, but we should watch a movie or something. Unless you're just going to sort clothes all night."

Ferrea blinked, her face completely blank. The dog was showing more emotion, Isabella thought.

"People don't usually sort clothes all night," Isabella sighed, breaking the silence.

"Oh, right," said Lucy. "So… watching movies is what people do all night?"

"Aside from teenagers, yes."

That was how Lucy ended up in Isabella's living room, watching some awful movie about vampires that seemed to be aimed only at the sexually frustrated. She assumed that it would be rude to say this however, so she distracted herself by talking to Isabella, searching for information.

"What do you normally do in summer anyway?"

Isabella frowned, seemingly enjoying the film, but replied anyway, happy that Lucy was finally opening up.

"Well tomorrow, I thought we could go see Phineas and Ferb," Isabella said excitedly. "It's not what you'd call a Fireside Girl activity, but they make these great inventions…"

"I know who they are."

"You do?"

Lucy laughed. "I don't mean to be rude Isabella, but you're rather ignorant of your town's fame. Even you are fairly well-known. Small American towns don't get invaded everyday, and besides, before that Phineas and Ferb were pretty famous for inventing."

It seemed the selfish thing to take away from the statement, but Isabella had to ask.

"I'm… famous?"

"More-or-less. People say Phineas saved the day, but you and his sister were pretty active in repelling Smile Away."

Isabella's head turned back to the screen, face fallen suddenly. Ferrea leaned forward on the couch, entering Isabella's peripheral vision like a huge nosy spider.

"Someone's talking to you. Aren't you going to look at them?"

Isabella could not help but be amused by the bluntness and complete lack of tact in Lucy's words.

"Sorry. It's just when you mention Phineas like that… he's not the same. But yeah, I mean the whole thing was terrifying, but I wouldn't say I did much."

"What happened to Smile Away?" Ferrea asked innocently.

Isabella scratched her head and yawned. It was getting late, and Smile Away was not exactly her favourite topic of conversation.

"It was pretty much gutted. We took quite a bit of their computers. I think Ferb stole quite a lot of their electroshock stuff too."

"Do people still go there?"

Isabella snorted. "We don't let them. The place is surrounded by Gretchen's cameras. One of the Fireside tunnels leads there now, for emergencies, but I keep the tunnels shut."

"Why?"

"Bad memories," said Isabella. "During the coup, we had to hide in there. It wasn't good. It probably still stinks of Thomas Rains."

The film was almost forgotten by now, blaring inanely in the background. Ferrea shifted in her seat to stop her useless hand digging into her leg. Isabella accidentally caught a glimpse of the huge scar. Curiosity took hold.

"If you don't mind me asking," she said cautiously, "What happened to your hand?"

Lucy instantly thought of several dramatic and elaborate lies, but as with most expressions and images, she knew that she would have a hard time recounting them convincingly, if at all. Instead, she gave the truth.

"I disobeyed my father. Iron nail straight through the palm. It's nerve damage." Her lazy smile widened at the horrified look on Isabella's face. "Relax. He's dead. Why do you think I live in a foster home?"

"…U-huh."

"Who is Rains?"

Inwardly, Isabella sighed with relief at the change in topic.

"Some asshole," she said distractedly. "One of the Smilers. But he was Ferb's friend, so now he's dead we all have to pretend that he farted rainbows."

"But he didn't?"

"Of course not…" Isabella began before realising that Lucy had taken everything literally. "Never mind."

Lucy leaned back for a moment, shooting Fenris a glance. Here was the difficult part. But it would alleviate proper suspicion if she delivered it correctly.

"Isabella, I have a bit of a hidden agenda," she said suddenly.

"What?"

"Yeah, I had some instructions coming here."

Isabella's eyes narrowed but she said nothing.

"It's see, I was told to keep an eye on you," Ferrea lied, before reaching the part that was actually true. "You see, one of your people had complained about the patches."

Isabella immediately relaxed.

"Patches?"

"Mm. Apparently they were saying the number of Help Thy Neighbour patches was getting ridiculous. So they told me to keep an eye on it. Sorry Isabella. I just didn't want you thinking I was doing something behind everyone's back."

"Who filed the complaint?"

Ferrea shrugged. The two of them went back to watching what remained of the utterly dreadful film, occasionally making observations that eventually evolved into scathing critiques of the plotline. Isabella was rather good at imitating voices, and came up with several mocking lines for the characters.

_Good work Ferrea. Better they think you're up to something harmless. They won't investigate too deeply that way._

_It wasn't a lie though, was it? It was just altered truths._

_Lie, truth, who cares?_

_I care._

_Pathetic._

* * *

Gretchen lived with her sister, in a small apartment a short distance from the suburbs, in a more industrial area. This was fine on weekdays, as her sister would fulfil the parent role as best she could, but Gretchen couldn't stand it at weekends. She would not even attempt to sleep in her room when her sister and her sister's boyfriend were in the next room.

Which was why Gretchen often turned up in Adyson's room in the middle of the night.

"JESUS CHRIST!" Adyson yelled, falling out of her bed. "Oh, it's you. You know, you could ask earlier in the day if you want to stay over."

Gretchen grunted, unrolling a sleeping mat.

"The lock on the door needs replacing," she said.

"Not again… My parents don't even get up anymore when they hear someone in the house at night. They just guess it's you raiding the fridge."

"Intelligent assumption," said Gretchen unsympathetically.

"Well, it's…" Adyson began before she heard something. Her face fell. "You had to wake me up now."

"What is it?"

"Just look out the window."

Gretchen peered out onto the suburban street, a black landscape littered with the orange glow of the lampposts. Straining her eyes a little, she found the source of the noise. A scruffily bearded, distressed-looking man was shambling his way down the street, carrying a hand-made sign. It was hard to make it the words, but it was obviously of the 'have you seen this girl' signs and not, as Gretchen initially suspected, 'the end is nigh'. She thought that this was odd, but did not see why Adyson found it so distressing.

"Does he do tricks or something? Why is this noteworthy?"

Adyson crawled back into her bed, facing away from the window.

"His daughter was killed like last month. He knows, too. He just won't accept it."

"And…"

"And it gets to me, you jerk," Adyson snapped, but her heart wasn't in it. She could never stay angry for very long.

Gretchen closed the window properly and drew the curtain – a simple solution, she reckoned, for a simple problem. She yawned and took a spare blanket from Adyson's cupboard as she always did. She flopped down, exhausted, her glasses landing next to her.

For a while the room was almost silent, the muffled sounds of the street barely noticeable. Adyson turned once or twice, and Gretchen could tell that she was still distressed.

"His daughter," Gretchen said to the darkness. "The Danville Dracula?"

"Makes him sound like some sort of super-villain, huh?" Adyson sighed. "You just don't expect to see any of it outside the news. I'm fine."

Gretchen shrugged, before realising that this was pointless in the dark.

"Do you want to come and see Ferb's project tomorrow?" Adyson asked.

Gretchen was ready to provide a scathing and dismissive reply until she remembered that otherwise, she might have to spend time with the new girl.

"Fine," she said, surprising Adyson greatly. "Adyson?"

"Jawohl, mein Fuhrer?"

"Do you like the new girl?"

"She seems okay. Weird, but okay. Pretty brutally honest. Why?"

"Something about her. Hurm. Must investigate further."

* * *

There was a camera pointed at Thomas Rain's grave constantly. There were several reasons for this, one of which was Gretchen's paranoia of zombie apocalypses, another being Isabella's desire to keep an eye on anything related to Smile Away.

Ferrea crushed the camera under her foot and scooped the pieces into her jacket pocket. The night was horribly warm for summer, and she stopped to catch her breath. She had left Isabella's house five minutes ago, and had been nervously watching her step every inch of the way, in case she was being followed.

Either by Isabella or Mr Fox.

Happily, she was not being followed at all. She needed to hurry – this was an unnecessary risk, but it could make her job easier.

"Well Tommy, you're quite an opinion divider in this town. I think you would have liked that."

Fenris sniffed at the tombstone, before lifting a leg and marking his territory. Lucy sniggered at that.

"That would probably improve your smell. See, because it smells badly, and you smell badly, but if it improves, then you really…" She decided not to explain the joke further, as no one was listening.

She absentmindedly traced the handle of the gun underneath her jacket. Someone had been tending to the sight fairly recently – the grass was short and trimmed.

She checked her watch.

"It's two o'clock. I should get back before seven. Think we can get through six feet and a coffin by then, Fenris?"

The dog wagged his tail happily.

"That's what I thought," chuckled Ferrea. "Dig."

* * *

**Thanks for reading! I was tempted to have a longer memoery from Ferrea, but I like where it leaves off. The idea of Thomas' grave being raided was too ironic to pass up, given that once tried to dig up Phineas and Isabella while singing about Burke and Hare. That's all for now, for now I must go! Additionally, if the Rage virus spreads out of England I may be gone for a while defending the country. Adieu!**


	5. Reanimation

**Ah, come in weary traveller, to another Tale of Interest as presented by me, an obnoxious Scotsman.**

**5 - Reanimation**

_**In which Fantastic Mr Fox meets his match, Phineas meets his greatest fan, Gretchen meets a well-deserved threat, and a Chekov's Gun is subtly used.**_

* * *

_In her memories, Mr Fox is little more than a walking shadow – unmemorable in appearance save for one scar across his face, slowly fading into small white lines. His voice sticks in her mind however. It's always calm, soothing, even when he is not._

_Mr Fox sits at the end of the table .He snaps a wishbone in one hand. His words are muffled by chewing._

_She has never been in Smile Away this late, but then again, no one invites Mr Fox to their actual house._

"_I'm surprised you people believed me," says Mr Fox._

"_We didn't at first," says her father, grimacing at Mr Fox's table manners. "But then you said a name."_

"_Phineas," recalls Mr Fox. "Little bastard. Still, I ought to thank them. I did ascend – it was just more painful than I expected. But this place is heaven."_

"_You don't want to go home?" she blurts out. Her father looks at her._

_Mr Fox looks at her._

"_And who might you be? You look very pretty, if you don't mind me saying, my dear. But why would I want to go home? England's a different country than I left it. America is much closer to the old society._

_Anyway, it's like home here. I did my research – there's been so many like me. I'm the father of this society. All the greats come from me. Bundy, Dolarhyde, Sutcliffe in England. Even Dahmer, sodomite that he was. Well, I'm the original. All these kids, they need to see how the big boys play."_

"_I'm sure they're very impressed," says her father, lighting a cigar calmly. "Have you practiced that monologue before?"_

"…_I don't like being mocked." Mr Fox leans forward._

"_And yet mock you I will." Her father not intimidated in the slightest. She feels a surge of respect for him. "This isn't a job offer, Mr Fox. You have a job in Jeffville. You could even call your little hobby in Danville a job…"_

"_Not a job. Task. It was the Virgin Mary's idea. To stop them spreading their diseases."_

"_Regardless, you will provide us with information. If you don't, we'll turn you in."_

"_Don't care," says Mr Fox, laughing now, flecks of food landing on the table. "Be famous then. It would attract people to my cause."_

"…_Very well. Work for us, or I'll kill you and pay someone to continue your spree, leaving you completely forgotten."_

_Her father's got him. Mr Fox is shifting in his seat, tensing, but he's powerless. He mumbles something in agreement and storms out merely five minutes later. She sits at the table, looking at her father. _

"_Dad?"_

"_Hmm?" There's no harsh tone eligible, and she sighs with relief. He's in a good mood. "Why do we have to side with people like that?"_

_The cigar smoke seems to reach out across the table like a spider._

"…_When I was in the Special Forces, we were approaching an occupied village. We came to a clearing in the woods, village ahead." His face is partially obscured by the smoke. "The grass in the clearing moved. Gently, but it was there."_

"_What was it?" She asks. She never hears stories from her father._

"_Corpses," he says. "Hundreds of corpses, piled on top of one another and sealed in a mass grave. They'd come and… hacked the village apart. Old men, women and children. There probably wasn't a complete body among them. Severed. The gas escaping from the bodies had been making the earth rise."_

"_What happened?"_

"_We knew it was a trap, so we circled the village at night, when their guard went down. Most of them were child soldiers. They were only children, but they were so efficient because the men who trained them had given themselves to a cause so completely that all morality was gone. I would rather be on the side of a monster than fight against it. It can be betrayed later… You'd better go and feed Rains in the Medical Bay. The doctors have gone home."_

_She obliges, nervously, stepping over the dogs to reach the door. Before she leaves, she stops and asks the most pressing question that occurs to her about the story._

"_What happened to them? All the child soldiers?"_

"_We killed them all, obviously."_

* * *

"What's this one?" Lucy asked, nearly shoving the scrapbook directly into Isabella's face.

"That was some sort of robot factory. Phineadroids and Ferbots, as the song goes."

"What happened to it?"

Isabella held the door open and the two emerged into the glare of the sun on suburban Danville.

"I don't really know. The machine didn't disappear – the robots did though. I think Irving might have it."

Lucy was about to say something else, before she stopped, her head tilted curiously.

"I thought you said Phineas didn't build much anymore? There's people in his garden."

This told Isabella two things – one, she should never attempt to sneak up on Lucy and her absurdly good sense of hearing, and two, Phineas was having a good day. The two girls sprinted across the road, narrowly avoiding a speeding car. Isabella ignored all of this despite Lucy's worried protests, bursting into the backyard with a grin.

"Hey Phineas, whatcha doin'?"

Phineas looked up, blue eyes slightly glazed and tired, but he returned the smile nonetheless. A small crowd had gathered like old times, peering nosily as Ferb applied the last touches to what seemed to be white water rapids descending into the earth. Adyson waved from the front, and a bright flash of light told Isabella that Gretchen was also present.

"Ladies and gentlemen…" Phineas began hesitantly, "I bring you rapids so fast and dangerous that… that…" People were looking at him expectantly. Sweat was visible on his forehead. "Sorry, I have a headache… Just enjoy the rafting I guess."

He came very close to falling from his platform. Isabella shoved her way through the crowds heading eagerly for the invention, just in time for him to attempt a hop to solid ground.

Phineas accepted the crash numbly, but he had not been expecting such resistance. When he fell back onto the grass, he was astonished to see that the other person was still standing. He did not recognise her, but apparently she was much stronger than she looked.

"Mr Flynn, I presume," said Lucy, not noticing the protective glare from Isabella. "Usually it is only birds that attempt to fly. I can't help but notice the similarities though."

She smiled and pulled him to his feet with one hand. He chuckled nervously to ignore the queasy feeling in his stomach. Something about the girl was just _wrong._ But he kept his usual politeness.

"Have we met? Your voice sounds familiar. I'm Phineas by the way, not Mr Flynn."

"I know who you are. Like Isabella, you don't seem to know how famous you are. I hope I'm not being rude, but I have wanted to meet you for some time Mr Flynn. I'm a big fan."

"Umm… thanks?" Phineas mumbled, looking to Isabella for help, who merely shrugged as if to say 'she does that'.

Lucy watched this brief exchange of expressions carefully and stepped back.

"Well, I'm afraid I've bothered you Mr Flynn…"

"It's Phineas, and no, it's not…"

"I'll get out of your way. I would like a look at these rapids, as you called them. It has been an honour to meet you."

With that, the girl disappeared into the moving crowd, a small dog following obediently at her heels. Phineas turned to Isabella.

"Who was that?" There was a certain level of anger in his voice.

"Lucy Ferrea," explained Isabella. "She's an exchange trooper. A little weird, but…"

"I don't like her," Phineas muttered.

Isabella frowned. "Not like you."

He massaged his temples and sighed.

"Yeah, I suppose. Maybe I'm tired. Just don't spring people on me like that, okay?"

Despite knowing that none of it had been her fault, Isabella still felt a pang of guilt. She merely nodded and accompanied Phineas towards the rafts. It was likely that Phineas would not get in any of them – these days, it was rare that he even watched.

Ferb glanced up, feeling his face burning. The sunlight glinting from Gretchen's glasses was being focused on his cheek. For that moment he understood how an ant felt under a magnifying glass, and not just because of the burning sensation – he had the feeling that Gretchen might suddenly stamp on him.

"Hey Ferb!" said Adyson excitedly, almost bouncing up and down on the spot. "We came to see the project, you know? The super-secret-what-could-possibly-go-wrong-project?"

Ferb nodded, eyes darting from side to side to make sure that Phineas was fine, before rising and walking to the garage. The three of them side-stepped past Candace's car, reaching a suspicious-looking square on the floor.

"Where is Candace anyway?" Adyson wondered.

"I do believe she was in that sniper's perch in the tree," said Gretchen. "Calling the mother, obviously."

"She gets anymore hammy, she'll be fighting the Fantastic Four."

Ferb pulled a switch that the girls had not previously noticed, a hollow grinding sound echoing through the concrete garage. Slowly, the suspicious panel of flooring began to descend, the group of three on board. Adyson whistled in appreciation, and Gretchen tried very hard not to become over-excited at the technology.

The descent was almost completely in darkness, what little artificial light there was streaming through the chain-link elevator barrier.

"It's summer, where do we begin…" Adyson sang happily over the sounds of grinding metal.

The next moment, Gretchen and Adyson jumped in surprise as Ferb's mobile phone blasted out the theme tune to a popular British science-fiction show. Ferb answered calmly.

"Yes?"

Adyson and Gretchen, both inquisitive by nature, instinctively leaned towards Ferb in the dark, listening in on the conversation.

"Hey Ferb, it's Vanessa," came the voice. It sounded worried. "Umm, I thought you might want to know this…"

"She's pregnant!" Adyson chirped, before Gretchen smacked her over the head for interrupting.

"Listen," said Vanessa. "We were having some one of our parties – you know the ones in hilariously inappropriate places?"

"Perhaps she is indeed pregnant," Gretchen said with a smirk.

Ferb made a noise that convinced Adyson and Gretchen not to interrupt again.

"So, we were at the graveyard… we saw it, and we called the cops… Listen, I thought you should know, and it's not our fault…"

Whatever Vanessa finished with was lost to Gretchen and Adyson, as Ferb stamped twice on the lowering platform, which shot back up the elevator shaft rapidly. The girls had only caught a brief glimpse of something huge and finned far below before they were launched back into the garage.

"Ferb, what the hell?" Adyson said. "I want to see it!"

"Hurm," said Gretchen. "Judging from your facial expression, Neanderthalic though they may be Ferb, something is wrong."

"Is Neanderthalic a word?" Adyson said.

Ferb turned to them, face dark beneath the green locks.

"Come with me. I need your promise that Phineas does not hear about this."

Adyson nodded, Gretchen reluctantly agreed.

* * *

"Hey kid," said the police officer. "This is a crime scene, you can't…"

"I'm Ferb Fletcher."

The police officer immediately backed down. After all, if Fletcher could build a rollercoaster, what was stopping him from turning an obstructive officer into something nasty? Two girls grinned at him obnoxiously as they passed.

Ferb had always found the graveyard cold, regardless of weather. As he looked down in to the open grave, he felt freezing.

The coffin rose at an angle, as if someone had tried to drag it out of the pit but had been unable to. Instead, the coffin lid had been cracked and smashed open, apparently with some difficulty.

Thomas Rains was missing.

"I told you the dead would rise," Gretchen whispered to Adyson. "You said that was paranoia, but I said…"

"Are you blind?" Adyson whispered back. "It's obviously a Time Lord resurrection. Like when the Master…"

"You're laughing somewhere, aren't you?" Ferb blurted out.

Both girls fell silent as Ferb examined his watch, listening to the almost inaudible ticks of the second hand. He closed his eyes for a minute, suppressing the urge to swear and lash out at the nearest object or person. Sighing, he undid the strap and dropped the watch into the open grave.

"As I said before, Phineas can't hear about this. He's fragile as it is. I don't want him exposed to this."

"Ferb," said Adyson, stepping forward. "I know this is hard, but…"

"What's hard about it?" Gretchen said, the light caught in her lenses. "Perhaps Ferb's desire to investigate tangled with some attachment to a brother traumatised… Why did we have to come?"

"Phineas will notice if I'm gone," said Ferb, voice cracking. He was unused to speaking like this. "Normally, this could be left to the police… But this is Smile Away related."

The girls immediately tensed, expressions hardened.

"There's a mole," mused Ferb. "Right at the top of this circus. If Smile Away are back, or if this is just a loner… I want you to find them. I want them dragged here, kicking and screaming, and I want them to answer for this."

Somewhat intimidated, Adyson made a tiny noise in agreement.

"Logic would dictate not to tell anyone about this," said Gretchen. "Hurm. That way we don't confuse the trail."

"You'll help?" Ferb asked.

"I don't help." The glasses were adjusted. "That implies simple assistance. I'll solve your whole problem."

"Heh," said Adyson. "If it means taking down Smile Away, starring role and all, Ferb, I'll help. I mean it."

"Of course," said Gretchen, looking over the edge at the ruined coffin. "I am not a slave. I do not solve problems sans payment."

"Gretch, I think…"

Ferb said nothing, narrowed eyes directed at Gretchen.

"I expect some sort of reward, Fletcher."

Adyson had rarely had much respect for personal space, but her sudden proximity surprised Gretchen. The cheerfulness had momentarily washed from Adyson's face, leaving behind dark eyes glaring at her friend.

"Gretchen," Adyson said, voice unchanged. "You are beginning to piss me off."

Gretchen turned back to Ferb and spread her arms wide, chuckling nervously.

"…That is, I would expect a reward under any other circumstances, but at this current moment I don't think it is required. Investigation is its own reward."

Adyson went back to smiling happily. Ferb waved his hand in a dismissive manner that would have been rude in a different situation. The girls took the hint and walked back down the cold hill, their presence irritating the policemen greatly.

Ferb knew that he had to get back before Phineas noticed his absence, but sank to the ground regardless. At the thought of another Smile Away incident, he had suddenly become very tired.

* * *

Isabella rolled over in her bed, eyes closed shut with the determination of someone trying very hard, but failing, to get to sleep. Eventually she lay with her eyes open, staring at the ceiling. She could hear her mother snore from downstairs, and nothing from Lucy's room. Even the dogs were asleep.

Then what, she asked herself with dawning alarm, was that noise?

It was coming from the backyard, the sound of boots on leaves. Slowly, she edged out of bed and over to the window, eyes peeking over the sill to the garden below. The pool lights had been turned off, but that was not a surprise – her mother did that all the time. At the edge of the pool, someone stood watching her.

The sharp pang of terror was brief though, as Isabella quickly realised that the shape was rather obviously that of a child or teenager. It was probably Gretchen, she assumed. The girl had a bad habit of turning up at people's houses in the middle of the night.

Isabella opened the window loudly, and the figure glanced up.

"Get lost asshole!" Isabella called down. "I'm calling the cops!"

If she had actually sensed danger, this would have been a phenomenally stupid thing to do. The figure stayed where it was.

"Go on, get out! Ugh, you're a drunk teenager, aren't you? Go away!"

There was the sound of movement from Lucy's room and Isabella realised that she had awoken the other girl. Lucy could be heard searching for the light. Eventually, a switch clicked audibly, and the backyard was lit in yellow.

Thomas waved at Isabella from his position by the pool.

Isabella very carefully reached down to her bedside cabinet. There was penknife there, she thought. She could stab him before he… But he was dead!

"Ferb," Isabella said slowly. "What the hell have you done?"

Grabbing the penknife, she almost made to jump out of the window, but as she made the move, she registered that the backyard was now empty. The echo of swift running disappeared into the night.

Rains was gone.

* * *

**Well then, thanks for reading. And thanks to Terra for providing me with a chapter title. In the middle of Mr Fox's rant, one of the serial killers he mentions is fictional - Francis Dolarhyde from Red Dragon - I suspect Fox is just reading Wikipedia and taking it all as actually happening. So, I wish I had more to say here, but I don't, so see you all next time! And we're back to a sorta-schedule now.**


	6. Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Hurm

**Hello again. This chapter gets really depressing at the end. You might hate me for it, but I'm already in the Corner of Woe. The piano number descibed in Ferrea's memories is 'Cohen's Masterpiece' from Bioshock - look it up on youtube. Anyway...**

**6 - Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Hurm**

_**In which much happens, but not of the sort that the author can joke about.**_

* * *

_Christmas has a strange effect on the strangest people, she __thinks. It's not actually Christmas Day, but it's as close as they'll get. For a moment, in what used to Napier's office, she is content. Father has a visitor from his employers – a large, strict Northern Irish woman. Both of them are viewing the experiments in the bunker, and her father will be questioned and will doubtlessly be in a foul mood when he returns, but now she has all the time in the world._

_Thomas has pulled the sheet from Napier's old piano, and her new friend Bob has managed to warm the fireplace. With the snow falling through the window, Smile Away looks surprisingly beautiful. The strict woman came accompanied by two boys, who sit themselves down on the carpet, which for once is not occupied by Alsatians and Dobermans.__ There are two ways to tell them apart: 27 has a shaven head, whereas 28 has long, feminine hair, and 27 is rather prejudiced and angry, while 28 is nervous and religious._

_Thomas starts to play a strange piece of music – it sounds happy, she thinks, but there is something not quite right about it._

"_Maybe you shouldn't play that boss," says Bob. "The big man might hear you…"_

"_Besides, that's a creative act right there," says 27._

_Thomas turns slowly, looking at each person carefully._

"_Who thinks it's a bad idea?" He's still playing impressively, without looking at the piano._

_She raises her hand, and she sees 27 and Bob do the same. 28 reluctantly follows suit._

"_Aheheh. People missing bollocks, lower your hands."_

_Bob is the only one left naturally._

"_Bob," says Thomas. "What's worse? Pain from Ironside, or pain from me?"_

"_Pain from you boss." Bob lowers his hand._

"_Wunderbar!" says Thomas in a very crazed fake accent. "I am ze only voter, so I vill play."_

"_We, uh, used to have a music box like, ah, that," 28 muses._

"_It didn't go like that, it played Mozart!" 27 retorts._

"_Ah, Mozart, he vas Austrian you know," Thomas knows nothing about classical music, she knows, and he's landed on fact by accident.__ Even if it had been wrong, he would have claimed it was right._

_One of the repeated sayings in Smile Away is 'Ironside is always watching'. Thomas has written underneath this 'And Thomas is always right'. Underneath that, someone has scribbled 'Reality is frequently inaccurate'._

"_It's not a very festive tune," she observes. "If you don't mind me saying."_

"_Oh, sorry Roger Ebert!"_

"_Ebert is a film critic, not a music critic," chirps Bob._

"_Whose side are you on? Very well, sorry, Princess Diana. Aheheh."_

"_I don't get the connection," she says._

"_The connection is, if you piss me off, you'll look just like her! Or at least, the smear she left on the pavement. Heh."_

_27 sniggers at this, and as part of a chain reaction, so do 28 and Bob. Thomas looks around, not used to the genuine laughter. He smiles broadly, and she realises that she has long since joined in too. The group of them are dysfunctional at best, but for this moment, she is content._

_And she has a plan. With his fixation on the 'creative', Rains is clearly separate from the rest of Smile Away._

_He can help her escape. If he doesn't decide to kill her first._

* * *

Isabella surveyed the footprints left in the grass. The tiny indentations were rapidly disappearing, the grass rising unhelpfully to remove any trace of last night's disturbance. Pinky sniffed around, but he would be doing his usual disappearing act, Isabella knew, so she could not count on him to find anything useful.

"Perhaps you were hallucinating," said Lucy carefully, not wanting to flare up Isabella's temper but anxious enough to risk it.

"Someone was here!" Isabella snapped. "Ferb. It has to be Ferb."

"How do you know? Fenris, no, that's not a toilet."

Isabella turned sharply, and Ferrea looked as though she might jump out of her skin. Isabella was suddenly very frightening.

"Because Ferb's the only one who cares! He's always working on something now behind Phineas' back, and… It just… Who else?"

"Well, he does sound like a likely suspect, but it would be wise not to jump to conclusions. What are you going to do?"

Isabella took a deep breath and remembered where she was. Brushing the grass stains on her knees, she felt the red mist dissolve before her eyes.

"You're right. No conclusions. But… I can't go to Phineas today. Not if Ferb is there. Until he's proven innocent, I don't want to look at him. Honestly… I mean, was there anyone crazier than Rains, no. But someone thought it would be a good idea…"

"If it would ease your mind," Lucy said gently. "We could take a look at Smile Away. You have the pass for the tunnel network. We could investigate."

Isabella's eyes narrowed again. Ferrea took a step back and scratched the back of her head, wishing she was somewhere else. Fenris made a low noise that was not quite a growl, but had some measure of danger in it.

"Nah, Smile Away's been gutted," Isabella said, walking out of the yard. "We'll go to the clubhouse. Maybe Gretchen saw something on her precious monitors."

Lucy padded after her, relieved.

"I have to take Fenris for a walk, but I'll go that way with you."

"Fine. Just remember – you being new and all, I may need your help."

"Pardon?"

"You're new, and know nothing about Rains or Smile Away," Isabella remarked. "That puts you in high stead."

"Ha ha, I suppose. I probably do come in useful in the case of an intruder."

"How's that?"

Lucy stepped out into the street. A speeding car drove past, nearly running both girls down. Ferrea noted that it was the same car as the day before.

"Well, I can tell you the registration plates for every car in a block radius. I know that we're both fairly quick and that at this level we could sprint for roughly one hundred and twenty metres before we tire. I know that of all the exits in your house, the window in my room is the most secure, and…"

"Okay, I get it." Isabella was beginning to get used to it. "Hey, where's Pinky?"

* * *

Gretchen was not in the clubhouse. She was at some back-up monitors inside a disused shipping crate at Danville harbour. With great dismay, she had been subjected to the systematic destruction of her cameras throughout the night. Whoever had destroyed them had also seen fit to remove the actual video evidence from the clubhouse.

So, Gretchen had rationalised, the clubhouse was completely compromised. Sadly, her back-up files were near-useless too – each camera had been destroyed from behind or above, with only the flash of a descending boot as evidence.

"Let me guess," said Irving, bathed in a sickly green light from the monitors. "Useless."

"Affirmative."

"I swear someone broke into my house," the boy said. "When I was at Phineas' house. The power had been cut, but all my cameras show that they were active and nothing happened."

"They've been fed a loop, clearly," said Gretchen.

"Probably, but nothing was stolen. What would they want?"

Gretchen turned away from the monitors to a pin board attached precariously to the side of the crate. Despite having been placed five minutes before, the board was covered in notes, photographs and statistics. Irving examined one of the pictures intently.

"These are the main suspects?"

Gretchen nodded, placing a pin through a CCTV image of Ferrea.

"Ferrea, obviously, as Occam's Razor would dictate that the suspicious newcomer is indeed to blame. Next in the line – Ferb Fletcher. He might have put us on the case, but one could wonder…"

"I don't believe Ferb would do that," said Irving, shaking his head.

"Bringing someone back to life is certainly within his range of talents, perhaps he needed the body. Perhaps he needed company."

"Ew. I still don't buy it. However, Isabella reportedly sighted Rains out and about. That's what I came here to tell you."

Gretchen frowned. "Why was I not informed?"

"She only told Ferrea. But my little birds were up and running by this point, and I listened. Knowing Danville, the rumour will spread faster than syphilis in a men's prison."

Gretchen sighed, sinking to the floor of the crate. _I am surrounded by idiots, _she thought to herself. _If Isabella gets herself involved, everything will go to hell. _She slammed her head back several times, the dull noise resonating around the crate. Irving crouched beside her.

"Hey, cheer up. Honestly, it's kinda exciting. Any other day, I'd be at home with my Phineas and Ferb memorabilia."

"Danville's last hope is me, and I'm stuck in a shoddy control room with the world's friendliest stalker."

"I don't stalk you," Irving said indignantly. "You used to be nice. And you had a sense of humour."

"Yes, and then what happened? Oh, that's right, a Nazi strapped me to an operating table and tried to cut me in half. That put a bit of a damper on my Saturday, Irving."

They sat in silence for a long time, the light shining onto their glasses rendering their expressions unreadable. Gretchen reached up and pulled a note from the board, reading a phone number intently. Irving tried to break the silence.

"You ever read comics? There's this one called Zollverein about Wolverine's Prussian cousin, and-!"

"AMERICA!" screamed Adyson, leaping from the dark and colliding with the unfortunate red-head, sending them both tumbling against the wall and to the ground in a heap.

"Ow…ib by nobe iz bleebing again, I swear to Gob…"

"Sorry, Irving," Adyson said, getting to her feet. "I mistook you for an enemy of America."

Irving's expression could only be described as very irritated and possibly outraged, but both Gretchen and Adyson thought it was unintentionally hilarious.

"How long have you been present?" Gretchen asked.

"Apparently as long as the author deemed was necessary, so you don't have to repeat stuff you already said. But I wasn't spying on you two and I was definitely not pairing you together and writing fan-fiction about you."

"Is that so."

"Ib anyone actually cares, by nobe hurts and ib bleebing quite bably…"

"Well," said Gretchen dismissively, "It is quite fortunate that you are not haemophilic. I need you both to shut up and-slash-or go away now."

Gretchen dialled the number on her cell phone, and placed the call on loudspeaker. The phone rang out for a couple of seconds, before a strange clicking noise interrupted and the dial tone began anew. Gretchen raised an eyebrow, suspicious. Suddenly, the ringing stopped, followed by the sound of the phone being picked up.

"Hello," said Gretchen. "Arkham Children's Home? I have few questions about Lu…"

"_You've uh, reached Arkham," _came an unmistakeably Irish voice. _"Your call is, ah, important to us, but we are unable to answer the phone right now…"_

"_You wanker!" _came a second Irish voice. _"They heard you pick it up! …Shit."_

"_Uh, we're experiencing technical difficulties. Please do not phone again."_

The call cut off abruptly, the voices replaced by the cell phone's slow drone. Gretchen ended the call, pushing up her glasses thoughtfully.

"That waz rebirected, huh?" said Irving, now holding a tissue against his nose to stem the blood.

"Yeah, I'm no expert," said Adyson. "But that wasn't Arkham Children's Home."

Gretchen steepled her fingers as usual, thinking carefully.

"Hurm…Very well," she said. "Then it seems tomorrow the real Arkham shall be paid a visit. Bring money for the train to Jeffville. We'll find out just where this upstart came from. It has to be her."

"VERY WELL!" Adyson yelled, fist in the air. "Gretchen and Adyson, case-solving extraordinaire! …And Irving."

"Thank oo. Ib's nide to be inclubeb."

* * *

The Old Abandoned Amusement Park was, as the name suggested, old and abandoned. The haunted house barely stood, the walls blackened by fire and the decorations were misshapen and ruined. In the centre of the house, one looking up could see into the control room due to a hole in that room's floor. Directly beneath this hole lay the remains of an egg-shaped machine, the signature mark of Phineas and Ferb barely legible.

Thomas Rains' corpse was propped against this machine.

Ferrea took care not to disturb the body, as it made her feel slightly ill. Fenris on the other hand, sniffed it intently, as if he had not already done so several times. Lucy placed her cell phone on top of the machine. She was going to have to call Smile Away back – they had been trying to contact her for the last few hours.

In the corner, the second Thomas rose to greet her, cracking as it moved.

"Good day, Mr Rains. I don't have need of you again yet. Things are going smoothly."

Thomas nodded.

"That's a good can-do attitude," said Ferrea. "But you only have a four day lifespan, don't you?"

It nodded, stepping into the light. In daytime, the resemblance to a real person was less convincing. The blonde hair tilted at an odd angle and the synthetic kin looked waxen and unconvincing.

"I am so thankful to Mr Irving," said Lucy happily. "He kept all of Mr Flynn's inventions. Otherwise, I might have had to dress as you."

The android nodded. The phone rang, interrupting Lucy's train of thought. The calls were automatically set to loudspeaker, as it would likely be the entire council.

"_Operative, why have the Rapture machines not been acquired?"_

"These things take time," Lucy complained, but she knew that she was already the loser in this conversation.

"_They do take time," _said a second voice. _"A short time. You have wasted it."_

"No, listen," said Lucy, a little desperate. "The only way into Smile Away now is through the tunnel system."

"_DID YOU HEAR THAT? SHE TOLD US TO LISTEN! SHE HATES AMERICA!"_

"_Settle down Glenn. Ferrea, the point is, we believe you are wasting time. Why not simply go through the tunnels? We need you to do this remember? The bunker is DNA encoded."_

"Only Isabella has the pass for the tunnels."

"_Then steal it."_

"I've tried, but I can't find it! I've been trying to get her to open it herself, but it's hard!" Lucy was on the verge of tears. Fenris pawed at her leg sympathetically.

"…_Fine. We have a solution."_

The council went silent for some time, and Lucy stood, anxiety gnawing at her viciously.

"_It is done. Mr Fox has been contacted. Tonight, he will kill the girl. Then you can take the pass and get into the bunker. You are advised to stay away from him."_

Lucy was horrified – she slammed a fist down next to the phone, feeling hopeless tears streak down her face.

"No! This is my thing! You can't… Isabella's a nice girl! If we do things my way, then…"

"_If we do things your way, we'll still be here at Christmas."_

"_Indeed. If you continue to waste time after the girl is dead, we'll send 27 and 28 to escort you to the bunker. In a full body cast if necessary."_

The phone clicked off and Lucy collapsed helplessly against the skeleton of the machine. She came very close to Rains' body by accident, but no longer cared. What could she do? It was too soon to move into action – she couldn't force Isabella. But she didn't want her to die either – violence had always been her last resort.

Fenris whined slightly, burrowing his head under arm and licking at her face. He was always able to tell when the situation was bad – after all, they had first met like that.

"It's sad, Fenris," Lucy said, drying her eyes. "But it seems that tonight will be the last night we see Isabella alive. God, I feel sick."

They sat together for nearly an hour before leaving the burnt-out building, leaving the two inanimate figures of Thomas Rains alone.

* * *

Pinky never made it to his house ever again. There was a large oak tree behind the Garcia-Shapiro yard, hanging over the fence, but standing strong nonetheless. The fence made it impossible for anyone from the house to see if there was anyone at the tree.

It was at this tree, on a stifling hot summer afternoon that Pinky lay on his side, blood pouring steadily from an open wound.

Mr Fox sat down beside the dog, patting it on the head.

"I don't get any amusement from this," he said. "It's just that, when I'm staking a house, I usually kill the pets."

He spun Isabella's house keys around his index finger. A simple look under the welcome mat had bestowed them upon him. Any witnesses would have seen a very different man from Mr Fox – he had always loved disguises on recon.

Pinky's breathing became heavier and more gasping. The blood flowing from him had become darker.

"It's funny. I could swear you were wearing a fedora, little dog. Perhaps my mind is playing tricks upon me."

Fox frowned. He was not getting any younger, but Smile Away had promised that this was the girl who had evaded him in Whitechapel. He sighed. The fame in the news was good while it lasted, when the euphoria of the last kill was at its height. But the fact was, he didn't want to be recognised as 'The Danville Dracula'. He wanted to be recognised as Harlan Fox, he wanted reporters lining up at the courthouse, asking him how he had evaded capture for so long.

This would be the perfect time to do it, he realised. This girl would be the last kill, and he could wait for the police to take him away. No.

No.

One girl? Smile Away had said that there were two – the target and Ironside's daughter. Ironside's daughter was not to be harmed.

But it had been so long since the double event. And Smile Away couldn't do anything once he was caught.

"It's settled, then," he said to the dying dog. "I'll kill them both. Hell, I'll kill the mother too – go out with a big show. A good old house invasion… My first house invasion was Mary Kelly, little dog. Her lodgings were small though. I still remember my first kill too."

Pinky struggled to keep his eyes open, choking as the blood rose through his throat and dribbled from his mouth to the grass.

"My first was never reported – I got scared, you see, hid her. The thing was, it was completely accidental. I had met her, we drank and talked. I tried to do to her what father did to me, but she wouldn't stop screaming. Then I cut her throat, and she didn't scream anymore. So I realised – if a nice lady like her couldn't stand it, then the whores spreading their diseases were making a mockery of everyone!"

Fox dabbed at his eyes and remembered where he was. He rose to his feet, feeling his knees crack.

"It's necessary, you see. Kill them, ascend. A sacrifice at the altar to the Virgin Mary, getting rid of all the filth that besmirch her name. Goodbye, little dog."

Pinky did not hear Fox depart. He thought of Isabella, and how he would miss her, and Perry and Monogram who would look for him. He thought of the summers past, when the world had seemed a wonderful place.

And when his eyes closed, he thought of nothing.

* * *

**I warned you. Hey, don't look at me, I just write the thing! ...And think it up, but that's beside the point. Obviously, the story will be moving faster now after our fairly slow start. Prepare for death on the road ahead. Ferrea's 'Clock King' speech about car registration and such is a direct reference to The Bourne Identity. As for Zollverein, Wolverine's Prussian cousin, he is unfortunately not real. I imagine his superhero antics consist of writing letters to Bismarck and Napoleon III though. See you next time.**


	7. The Devil Is In The Details

**Hello again! It's here where we start to pick up the pace, although, forgive me, Adyson and Gretchen aren't in this chapter. Commence stoning if you feel it appropriate.**

**7 - The Devil Is In The Details**

_**Just you wait a little while/ Soon the man in black will come/ And with his little chopper/ He will chop you up!**_

* * *

_Block C is where they keep the more troublesome pupils. This is never explicitly stated, but the students at this end are very threatening, at least to her. She has been keeping out of her father's office as much as possible – he's arguing with the Irish woman about the Rapture machines. He doesn't like them, and he says the old men will abandon it like they abandoned 'from birth program'. __Her father doesn't like new methods at all – Thomas says her father's way is 'The Spartan Way, but without the buggering', whatever that means._

_It's Rains she's here to see. She keeps close to the wall as she hears voices._

_Thomas is holding a dog-eared black book, grinning through his biter's mask. She assumes the girl trying to get the book back is actually 28 – all she can she is the black ponytail._

"_Could I, uh, please have that back?" says 28. His voice is pleading. She knows that is the only book he owns._

"_Who the hell carries a bible around with them? Aheh. It's weird. There's no whisky hidden in here is there?"_

"_Please Thomas."_

_Thomas smirks, dodging 28's grasp for the book and quickly locking the other boy's arms behind his back. "__ Maybe I'll give it back. Maybe not. Where's your brother to protect you?"_

"_I don't need his protection!" 28 protests, but Thomas holds his arms with one hand._

"_Really? Because you are an exceptionally girly Hibernian. With your hair in a ponytail like that, I'm surprised you're not bishie sparkling everywhere."_

"_I'm a boy!"_

_Thomas eyes the book lazily. He is getting bored. "__Is there someone somewhere who keeps your bollocks in a box somewhere? Or do they dangle uselessly, the threads cut? Aheheh, I'm having a hard time figuring out if there's anything there at all - is it just space where they should be?"_

"_Thomas..." 28 says, almost a whisper. Thomas lets go, holding the book outstretched._

"_Alright," he snaps. "Keep your book. I'd keep away from Block A if I were you. That's the teenagers, and you look like a pretty girl... Well, it'll be like Deliverance."_

"_Uh, thanks," says 28, quite taken aback at his apparent success. "I have to go."_

_He very quickly exits, nervously looking over his shoulder the entire time. She observes Rains' reaction slowly – the blonde boy sinks in stature, some degree of annoyance flashing across his face. She understands instantly. She has him now. She sidles out from her hiding place and follows him into his room. He turns in alarm, but settles almost instantly._

"_Oh, scope, it's you."_

_She ignores the suspected insult and begins._

"_Quite well done Mr Rains, I'm impressed. I didn't think you liked other people."_

_His eyes narrow. Quick temper, slow mind, she thinks._

"_What are you talking about?"_

"_Your attempt to make a friend."_

"_28? You think… I would stoop… bollocks…" She's caught him completely off-guard._

"_Well that's what it looked like to me," she says, trying hard not to smile. "It looked to me like a lonely boy trying his best. I read your file Mr Rains. You've never known proper friendship have you?"_

"_Like you have either, you cu…"_

_She cuts him off with a hand gesture. A captive audience._

"_See, you just don't know how to make friends, do you? And if you'll forgive my bluntness, you cover for this by being aggressive. Because you know this will get a reaction from people. It's the only way you can get them to interact with you."_

_He advances very quickly, ready to punch her, but he's been conditioned not to. She can see his eyes thrashing wildly in their sockets, trying hard to break through his brainwashing._

"_And yet you claim to be friends with Mr Fletcher, do you not?"_

_He lowers his fist, grinning smugly. _

"_Of course. Aheheh. Ferb is my friend, so there, you stupid boot."_

"_Well, this is merely a small nitpick then, because you must know the answer to this question. What is Ferb short for?"_

_His grin is quite frozen now – he's trying to keep up a semblance of superiority, but she can see frustrated tears beginning to form in his eyes as he searches for an answer. He will find one, she thinks, but not to this question. The real answer is that Thomas Rains is alone._

"_It's easy… of course it's… I know it, but you don't and I'm not going to tell you!"_

_She has this base covered already. She waves a brown folder stuffed with documents at him._

"_I do know it. I'll give you the first letter if you help me out."_

_He makes a grab for the file. Disappointed, she swiftly kicks upward, directly between his legs. He doubles over and sinks to the floor, and she turns and prepares t leave. She can hear him sobbing audibly now._

"_I suppose you are uninterested Mr Rains. I'll take my business elsewhere."_

_She looks over her shoulder at the pathetic figure in the biter's mask, tears dripping through the iron grooves._

"…_Wait."_

_She walks back to him, feigning disinterest._

"_Did you say something Mr Rains?"_

"…_You're right. Please…" He is visibly disgusted by the words coming out of his mouth. "Please don't leave me. I'll help you."_

_She crouches next to him, extends a hand._

"_Friends?"_

"…_Friends. …Deal with the devil…"_

"_Now then, I have a little favour to ask you about that filled-in tunnel over there…"_

_He was ordered by her father to fill in the tunnel after the intrusion, but as the Voice of Fate, she is able to give orders too. Over a period of weeks, she has him dig, and every time he doubts or rebels, she digs at his psyche a little more. Father has so much trouble controlling him, she thinks. It's not really that difficult._

_She listens to his complaints about Smile Away, Ferb and the world in general. She learns of the vicious tactic the boys are encouraged to use on one another. She learns that there is a certain doctor that none of the boys want to be left alone with. She learns about the chemical castrations for the older boys, the stabbing of a younger boy the week before, of the dogs patrolling the corridors in packs._

_One thing is clear – she will escape._

_She has underestimated Thomas. On the fifth week, her father is waiting for her._

* * *

"Pinky's still not back," said Isabella, glancing out of the screen doors.

Ferrea looked paler than usual, but said nothing. Fenris pawed at Isabella's leg, hoping for some attention, and got a brief scratch behind the ears for his efforts. The backyard was already submerged in darkness, and while Isabella was not the worrying type, her dog was normally back by this time. She jumped every time something moved in the garden, still half expecting Rains to leap out of the nearest hedge. She could hear her mother in the next room, loudly entertained by recorded soap operas.

"Do you think the dead can rise?" Isabella said suddenly.

"Is this about the returned enemy? It's unheard of, I'll admit, but Messrs Flynn and Fletcher can do anything. We've had this discussion I'm afraid."

Isabella toyed with a thin link chain around her neck.

"I know, it's just… We've fought worse than Rains, you see. I definitely don't want them back."

"Referring to Ironside."

"Not just Ironside," sighed Isabella. "If it was only just Ironside. Ludovico, Caligula, Scottish witches and cannibals, Doctor Phineastein… and Leather Apron."

"Leather Apron?"

Isabella was almost sheepish. "Can you believe our bad luck? Travel through time and who do we meet? Mahatma Gandhi? No, Jack the goddamned Ripper."

Lucy scuttled across from her place on the carpet to Isabella's couch, a worried glance at her new Chief.

"Isabella," she said. "Listen to me. I know you won't like it, but it may be worth a look at Smile Away. If they are all coming back. If you don't want to go, I could go myself, report back."

Isabella rolled her head to face Ferrea slowly. She could not read anything in the redhead's green eyes other than concern. Cautiously, she pulled the chain necklace over her head and in to the open and Ferrea saw that the chain held a small key.

"Lucy," Isabella said seriously. "We'll both go. Tomorrow. Take it."

"Thank you, Chief."

"Don't call me that," Isabella said, lightening up substantially. "You'll turn into Gretchen."

"Miss Sweetwater calls you Chief as well."

"It's not really a title. Just a nickname that stuck."

"A better nickname than most," Lucy observed. "They had worse names for me."

"Like what?"

"Well, my father didn't really call me anything at all, but this boy used to call me a scope."

"Scope? Meaning?"

"I didn't find out until later, but it's a reference to a make of wheelchair for cerebral palsy sufferers," Lucy said, looking away. She actually looked quite hurt.

"I've never heard it before. But I don't really understand the…"

"The application? Simple really. I was always kept from the other kids, always a little different. Spastic, scope, retard – they were all just extensions of that. It took me a while to understand not to take it literally."

Isabella attempted to say something that seemed appropriate, and eventually tried to change the subject, but the conversation was more or less at an end. Both girls went to bed, Isabella continuing to worry about her missing dog, while her mother assured her that he would turn up like always. Ferrea, on the other hand, went into her room and opened her suitcase, taking her handgun from the hidden compartment.

"We'll go to Smile Away now Fenris," she whispered. "We don't need to see this."

Fenris whined. She knew that he could smell blood nearby, and that he could sense her distress. A cold sweat ran down her spine. It would not be pleasant for Isabella, se thought.

_Leave her to die. The weak always do._

_Kill her yourself! Aheheh._

_But… I don't want her to die. She's a friend._

_Pathetic._

_Utter shite._

_You're wrong. Both of you._

She slammed the suitcase shut and, still clutching the tunnel key and the handgun, very carefully crawled under her bed. She was still very unsure, but she knew she would wait and decide sooner or later. Without realising what she was doing, she reached for her cell phone.

* * *

At one o'clock in the morning, a light-blue sedan trundled through the Danville suburbs, having come in from Jeffville. The car radio played gently, the closed windows causing a muffled effect.

"_Have you seen the old man in the closed down market, kicking up the papers with his worn out shoes?"_

Mr Fox wasn't particularly listening to the song, but continued to scratch the scab forming on his head as he tried to remember exactly where the house was. He was roughly three streets away, if his memory was correct.

"_In his eyes you see no pride, hand held loosely at his side. Yesterday's paper telling yesterday's news."_

He had shaved his head earlier in the day, desiring a notable appearance for his inevitable arrest and trial. In modern works he had noticed that collectors like him went out of their way to get away with their crimes. He thought this was stupid. It was fun hunting for a while, true, but there was a risk of fading into obscurity. The bottle scars across his face had now been joined by cuts lining his head, where he had dug too deep with the razor. He didn't care all that much. If anything, the effect was better.

"_So how can you tell me you're lonely__, and say for you that the sun don't shine?"_

He recognised the street. The blue sedan began to pull up on the sidewalk, a short distance from the house. He would walk the rest.

"_Let me take you by the hand and lead you through the Streets of London. I'll show you something to make you change your mind."_

The sedan came to a stop, and he cut the radio off as he reached for his bag. The leather apron brushed his leg, a comforting touch that he had missed. There was a light breeze that stung his new scars slightly.

Housebreaking was a fine art, he mused as he crossed the threshold into the front yard. Smashing you way in would obviously disturb the sleepers, but being near silent would be worse – the tiniest noise would wake a person – a primal instinct as they sensed danger amid the quiet. You had to sound familiar – which was why he used house keys. In their sleep, the targets would register this as a family member or lover coming in late, and would not wake up.

He made just enough noise with the lock, and opened the front door of the Garcia-Shapiro house. He had missed this. For the sake of revenge, he would go after the actual target first.

The stairs creaked, much to his annoyance. Most of the targets didn't have stairs. He watched his shadow on the wall as he ascended as an angel of death. He approached the door he knew led to the girl.

She was sleeping. And she, like so may others, did not hear him approach.

A deafening bark rang through the house.

He had killed the dog. He had watched it die! He turned in a panic, and heard someone get out of bed. The girl made a noise, opened her eyes.

She screamed.

He lurched forward, scalpel sliding out from his sleeve and into his left hand, pulling her hair with his right and dragging her from the bed. She struggled, kicking his stomach several times, but he managed to pull her head back and expose her throat. He quickly rattled off his usual words, wishing to be done as quickly as possible.

"Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee, blessed art thou amongst-!"

Something heavy crashed into his side, sending him tumbling away from the screaming girl. Vivian Garcia-Shapiro struck at him wildly, shrieking at her frozen daughter to run. Leather Apron grabbed at the woman's wrists, shoving her off of him, but she almost immediately lashed back up at his face, opening his scars instantly. Blood was shaken violently from his face onto hers and he let go of his scalpel in anger. When he looked up, the mother was hurrying her child from the room.

"Whore… cut off your head," he snarled, bolting upwards towards them.

His impact nearly sent mother and murderer straight down the stairs, but the girl pulled at his arm, preventing him from striking too hard. Isabella dug her fingers into Fox's eyes, rewarded by a scream of pain. He managed to get his left hand into his long jacket, pulling another knife as the sound of a door opening met his ears, and sirens wailed in the distance.

He slashed wildly, scoring several deep cuts on the mother, who dropped to the ground but kept up her desperate struggle to protect her daughter. However, her weakened arms could no longer hold, and Leather Apron and Isabella stumbled back into the bedroom, Isabella falling to the floor.

Mr Fox blinked and grinned, taking the knife properly into his hand and advanced on the prone girl.

"Where was I? And blessed is the fruit of thy womb…"

Ironside's daughter. She was standing in the doorway. Altering his course, he made for her, growling rapidly.

The first bullet shot through his neck and lower jaw. It was as if his face had exploded – his scream as he felt jawbone come flying loose deteriorated swiftly into a gurgle of blood and saliva. The second bullet missed, hitting the bedroom window as he teetered into it, both the bullet's impact and his weight causing the glass to shatter. With the sound of choking blood, Mr Fox plummeted out of the room and into the night.

Lucy helped the shaken Isabella to her feet. Fenris, like most dogs, sensed Isabella's distress, staying at her side as police cars and an ambulance arrived outside. Technically speaking, the authorities had been contacted ten minutes before Leather Apron had arrived, but Lucy doubted anyone would realise this on the report.

* * *

"Where did you get the gun?" asked the detective. She was a friendly woman, doing her best to investigate without causing further panic in the girls.

"Leave them alone," snapped Vivian, lying on a stretcher in the back of an ambulance. "They've been through enough."

Isabella clung to her mother, the blue and red waves of light from the sirens washing over both of them. Vivian's wounds had not been as bad as feared, but she was being taken to hospital regardless. Isabella reluctantly stepped out of the ambulance.

"I found the gun on the ground, detective," said Lucy. She had already handed it over for evidence. "He must have dropped it."

"That was a very brave thing you did. Now, we'll tr to contact your children's home and explain what's happened. Mrs Garcia-Shapiro has asked that you and Isabella stay with the Flynn-Fletchers tonight. She doesn't want either of you spending the night in hospital."

Lucy nodded blankly, Fenris shifting awkwardly in her arms. He was a little too big to carry, but she needed the comfort. She walked numbly through the gathering crowd, approaching Linda Flynn-Fletcher at the side. She recognised Lawrence Fletcher and his son, as well as Candace Flynn.

"I know this is hard," said Linda, almost kneeling down to Lucy's height. "But you can have everything you need."

_I already do, _Lucy thought, tracing her fingers over the keys clutched in her hand as her arm struggled to support Fenris.

Isabella approached, hair frayed and out of place, eyes red and scared.

"Where's Phineas?" she croaked.

"He wouldn't come," said Ferb, with an edge to his voice that suggested he was extremely angry at his step-brother.

"He does care, Isabella," Candace stressed. "He just couldn't handle seeing you hurt."

Lucy thought this sounded like a lie.

As the police cars and ambulances slowly headed away, the crowd began to disperse, and the girls headed towards the Flynn-Fletcher household, both of them shaking quite badly.

"Don't leave me," whispered Isabella.

"I'm right here," said Lucy softly. Guilt nagged at the back of her mind.

Before they reached the house, a young police officer approached them.

"I just wanted to say, you're both very brave, and don't worry – we'll find him."

"Thank you offi…" Lucy began, before realising what the officer had said. Her voice rose to a high panic. "What do you mean _find him_?"

Both girls struggled to sleep at all that night. Isabella was jumping at the slightest noise, while under her cover, Lucy examined the key. She would have to move quickly from now on.

* * *

**There are quite a few shout-outs in this chapter - Mr Fox's shadow as he ascends the stairs is a reference to the iconic shadow from Nosferatu - look up the image if you have time. Lucy's Big Damn Villains entrance is also fairly similar to the climax of John Carpenter's Halloween. Also, in this chapter, we finally get to see why Thomas was so keen to avoid Lucy in the last chapter of Tempus Fugit. So anyway, thanks for reading and see you all next time!**


	8. Final Crisis

**Hello again! This is the most eventful chapter yet, in which things continue to happen! Prepare yourselves, and die for Darkseid!**

**8 - Final Crisis**

_**In which a girl seizes the day.**_

* * *

"_I'm disappointed," says her father, although he doesn't look disappointed. He looks the same as always._

_She's frozen to the spot, feeling the faintest breeze waft up from the tunnel that she has come so close to completing. Thomas blocks her way to it, grinning at his little victory. Behind her, Caesar sniffs around, padding dangerously close each time. She knows she's supposed to respond, but she can't bring herself to speak._

"_I am impressed with your control of Rains though."_

_She manages to choke out a shaky question. "How?"_

"_Did I find out? Ironside is always watching, you know this better than anyone."_

"_Aheheh, you stuck-up little bitch, you thought you were so smart. You ordered me not to tell your dad, so I didn't. I told everyone else, and they told your dad. And as a reward, I get to leave tomorrow, so I suppose I should be thankful to you."_

_Her father grimaces at Thomas' words, but soon his gaze is back on her. He's thinking – she can see clinical cruelty slowly developing in his eyes. He reaches for one of the upturned floorboards, a great thick plank of wood that Rains toiled for hours trying to pry loose. With no effort, her father snaps a vicious looking nail free from the rock-like wood._

"_You'll need to learn how to properly follow orders," he says, inspecting the nail. "I regret not conditioning you like the others. I have grown soft on you."_

_He tosses the nail to her, and she instinctively catches it with lightning reflexes. For once, Thomas is silent, his face as unreadable as her father's. She swallows nervously. She cannot say anything to change the situation. She could run, make a break for it… but Caesar or Rains would run her down. _

"_Drive it through your palm."_

"_Dad, just listen…"_

"_Through your palm. Caesar."_

_The Doberman looms behind her, slobbering and snarling. She feels the bitter sting of tears. There has to be a way out, there has to be… She feels her head involuntarily flail from side to side, desperately looking for an exit. But in the end, her own body betrays her. Some part of her knows it's the only way, and does as it is told._

_The nail is old and rusty, and does not break the skin at first, no matter how had it is pressed. The pain is unbearable already though, and she sinks to the floor, right hand rested on the cold wood. She brings her fist down, followed by a scream of pain that remains for a long time after the nail first breaks through. Her father watches impassively. Caesar smells the blood in the air._

_Red trickles down a rapidly bruising palm, and still she knows she has to continue, the corkscrewing movement of the screw making her feel sicker than ever before. It no longer feels like she is pushing it – she can no longer control her left hand either, it continues to inflict the damage without her consent or control. Eventually, she turns her wrist over in time to see the skin on the back of her hand raised by the nail pushing at it from behind. It bursts through with a spurt, and she collapses on the cold ground, tears mixing with blood and sweat._

"_Disappointing," says her father. "I hoped you would be able to bear it. Caesar, fall in."_

_The dog trots from the room, her father marching out before turning to look at her one last time. _

"_Dad…" she whispers, in case normal speech reveals more sobs. "I'm sorry…"_

"_Are you," he says, and turns away._

"_Thomas," she pleads. "Help me. Please."_

_The English boy glances down at her, a bloodied girl staining his clothes. She knows he's shocked too, and she hopes it might bring him to her side. He's not wearing his biter's mask. He kneels down quietly, glancing over to see that her father is gone. He puts a hand on either side of her face tenderly, and she can feel his mouth brush her ear when he speaks._

"_Fuck you," says Thomas. "I win."_

_She doesn't know exactly where the strength comes from, but she sees red and swings her working arm upwards. Thomas grunts in pain and falls back, and quick as a flash, she's running over him, charging through the tunnel. The last few inches are still filled in, and she bursts through them with a cry of rage, born into the free world._

"_Kill her." The disappointed voice echoes through the tunnel._

_She runs as fast as can, even as her right hand goes numb. The only reason she still knows it is there is the warm blood that splashes her face as she runs. Rains and Caesar are after her, bounding through the trees. Both of them are much faster than her. She has one chance. The river._

_The shock of the water is ignored – she cannot afford to be immobilised, swimming with the current. Rains pulls to a stop as the current becomes ever stronger. She sees her pursuers pace at the banking. Rains laughs and calls after her._

"_Au revoir, Voice of Fate!"_

_If he says anything else, she misses it. The roar of the water cuts it all out, and her world is roughly shaken and blackened by the torrent. With herculean effort, she drags herself ashore. She has no idea how long she was in the river, but she's near Jeffville, tired, bloodied and soaked. She can't stop shivering._

_The streets are just as cold, and the people colder. She scurries from alleyway to alleyway, knowing nothing except that she must keep moving. Anyone, everyone, could be coming for her. She eventually collapses, her coughing ejecting water and blood. She falls onto a pie of newspapers._

_A shuffling noise. The bins move. The figures for dogs abandoned in inner cities have always been high, but she is absolutely overjoyed to see any sign of animal life._

_The Labrador limps towards her, fur matted by blood and excrement, eyes shining curiously. It is painfully thin. For a long time, the two stare at one another, before she spreads her left arm, smile attempting to block the tears._

"_Don't go."_

_The dog doesn't. He crawls into her lap, tail wagging weakly. The two abandoned creatures stay in the embrace of one another for some time. When the police find her, they are unable to separate the two. She's put in a children's home, as she can't tell them who her father is. She has no birth certificate either._

_A week passes, and the dog stays by her side. His name is Fenris, and she knows this because he knows this. On the seventh day since her escape, she wakes up to a troubling visit._

"_Your da's dead," says 27, throwing her the newspaper._

"_My, uh, condolences and sympathies," says 28._

"_How did you find me?" she asks, looking cautiously for an exit. Fenris growls._

"_It's what we do," says 27. "Rains is dead too. Smile Away's going through a bit of a shuffle just now, but they'll be contacting you in the future."_

_He gives her a cell phone, and before she can ask if she has any choice, the twins are gone. Smile Away, she thinks. Inescapable. Unstoppable. But perhaps, open to reshaping._

* * *

Ferb was disgusted with his brother. After a silent breakfast watching Phineas doing his best to ignore Isabella, Ferb had seen enough. He did have a project he could be working on. He did not have to watch this. He had not seen the new girl at breakfast. If she was around, perhaps he could hit on her. Opening the front door, he let out a shaky whistle in a feeble attempt to change his mood.

He was being watched.

Instinct had taught him that much over the last year, and he turned swiftly, catching a glimpse of his stalker.

"Thomas." It felt stupid to say what was rather obvious, but he could not help it.

Thomas grinned and sprinted off in the opposite direction. Without a moment's hesitation, Ferb ran after, grunting as he over-stretched a deep scar in his side. Rains turned left, darting towards the woods where the Fireside clubhouse was located.

Thomas had always been faster than him. Ferb knew he would only catch him once the other boy was bored enough to stop. Ferb hoped that no one else was watching this – it was rather undignified.

The clubhouse door was open, unusual for the heightened security of the Fireside Girls. Thomas disappeared inside and Ferb followed blindly.

"Thomas," Ferb blurted out, breathing heavily. "You have to listen, everything's changed. We can fight… across the world, if that's what you want, but not here!"

Ferb caught sight of the brown trench coat blown upwards, and realised that Thomas had leapt into the open tunnel system. With a deep breath, he followed. Ferb was expecting mud, but the tunnels, although dark, were coated in concrete. In his opinion, this made it worse – the grey leading into black was more menacing than an honestly dug burrow. He followed the sound of Thomas' running feet, and wondered why the dead boy was not talking. If there was one thing Thomas had always done, it was never shutting up.

He ran for what seemed like a mile, or, as his British vocabulary kept correcting, roughly 1.6 kilometres. This brief moment of levity cheered him immensely – perhaps Thomas could be reasoned with. After all, he had died for him.

The tunnel opened and Ferb lost all hope. He knew exactly where he was, decrepit and ruined though it was. There was no mistaking Smile Away. Thomas kept running, and Ferb nearly fell from exhaustion. Perhaps he was a _little _unfit, but everyone had their limits. Leaning against a crumbling wall, he stopped to catch his breath, before running on, his chest heaving.

Thomas disappeared from sight again, through an open hatch in the ground that Ferb had not seen last time he was in Smile Away. He swore under his breath and ran into the bunker. Thomas had stopped in the first room.

Large tanks filled with a strange orange fluid bubbled at the side of the room, the noise complimented by the beeping of an extremely sophisticated-looking computer.

"Bunkers are usually negative things, don't you think, Mr Fletcher?"

Ferb sighed. If he had been slower, he might have turned and exclaimed something like 'You! You were behind this!', but he had already stated the blindingly obvious today and was not planning on making it a habit.

"After all, you get survival bunkers for nuclear wars – yes you might survive, but everyone else is dead. And of course, to invoke Godwin's Law, Hitler shot himself in a bunker before he could be tried. By the way, I would have thought you capable of recognising your own androids. I guess you were too hopeful."

A gunshot rang out and Thomas crumpled to the floor, synthetic skin, blood and damaged circuitry spilling out onto the concrete. Ferb did his best to look away, but it was the second time he had watched Rains die. Ferrea was behind him now, and he knew trying to grab the gun would be useless.

"Au revoir, Mr Rains. Now then, Mr Fletcher. You know about Smile Away's brainwashing techniques, I presume? Don't feel bad if you don't, because I'll explain."

Lucy walked into the centre of the room and approached the giant computer, opening a release program. There was a hiss, and a large steel suitcase slid from an opening on the control panel. Lucy snatched it instantly, and Fenris barked excitedly.

Lucy sighed, possibly mocking Ferb. "I was born in this room," she said, pointing at the tanks in the corner. "Artificial wombs. The From Birth program was supposed to be the next step, but it was, as you can imagine, very expensive. I was the only one made. One father, no mother."

"You're the Voice of Fate."

"Yes, yes I am." She snapped open the case, and a blue light enveloped her features. "The boys were subjected to monocane, CRM 114 and the Ludovico Treatment to condition them as perfectly loyal soldiers. As you saw with Rains, this wasn't entirely successful.

"So, the old men started looking at more drastic, inventive measures, becoming what they hated. And they created the Rapture machines."

She pulled a long containment flask from the case, steam rising from the frozen surface of the glass. Ferb looked with barely concealed fascination at the thing that became visible. It was floating in the thawing ice like a spider might dangle from a web. Its 'limbs', or at least what Ferb thought of as limbs, hung uselessly below it, topped by long, hypodermic ends. Smaller claw-like hooks were attached to the underside of the body. The head was a single sphere, decorated solely with a round, blinking blue light.

"Ask me what it does," Lucy said, obviously pleased with herself.

"What does it do?"

"It burrows in through the target's neck, attaches to the spinal column. Tiny electric shocks and jabs force the target into obeying the orders given from the central unit."

She pulled the flask open, lowering her useless hand in. The hand began to visibly crack and stiffen as ice travelled across it, but Lucy had no reaction to it. She pulled the Rapture device from the flask. As soon as it was free, the spider-like machine struggled in her grip, legs extending, trashing wildly. Lucy smirked at Ferb and then brought the creature towards her own neck.

"This is the central unit, the command unit. The old men want me to retrieve this and the second unit, which were the only two ever made. Again, expenses, Mr Fletcher, the project was cancelled. But they're so desperate now they're willing to try anything. I'm not giving it to them though."

The command unit lurched forward suddenly, seizing Lucy by the throat. She gasped in pain and surprise as the thing scuttled to the back of her neck and stabbed its needles downwards. Lucy screamed suddenly, and as her mouth opened, Ferb watched in horror as the command unit's limbs became visible, going through her neck and out her mouth, searching, grabbing. Just as suddenly, they retracted, and Lucy stumbled to the ground, Fenris barking with concern. Ferb, inwardly cursing himself for caring, caught her before she hit the concrete.

Amid Fenris' barks, Lucy opened her eyes. Looking up at Ferb, she grinned suddenly.

"Ah, more painful than I thought. Never mind Mr Fletcher. Here's yours."

She wriggled from his grip and launched an open second flask in his direction. The last thing he saw before he blacked out was the underside of the creature as it forced its way into his nose and mouth.

He awoke on the cold floor, shivering and feverish. Something travelled the course of his spine. He could hear dark whispering, muttering. His brain throbbed painfully against his aching skull. Reaching round the back of his neck, he felt a small metallic sphere, blinking softly, all that remained visible of the Rapture unit.

Lucy Ferrea stepped in front of him. Fenris sniffed at the device on the back of Ferb's neck. Lucy's neck was hidden by her long red hair, but Ferb did catch a brief flash of blue whenever she tilted her head.

"Now the, Mr Fletcher," she said. "I have a few specifications. You will, of course, be obeying."

Ferb did not understand – his mouth was moving before he could even process what Lucy had said.

"What am I to do?"

Lucy grinned. "I said the Rapture project was too expensive, didn't I? But now I have the world's greatest creator under my control, suddenly expense and logic don't matter anymore! I want these mass-produced, in roughly two hours, I want the entirety Danville under my command. I want the army base, I want the police, and I want every single intelligent life form brought to heel by the end of the day."

She paced quickly, excitedly gesturing.

"They need to be built to automatically seek out people. No wait, not only people. I've heard of the OWCA. Anything with higher brain functions and the capacity to rebel. But above all, they are not to target Phineas Flynn. Do you understand, Mr Fletcher?"

"…Yes."

"Good. I know what you're going to do today!"

Smile Away would not know what hit them, she thought.

* * *

"Welcome to Arkham Children's Home! You spawn 'em, we pawn 'em! And what brings you to Jeffville?"

"Believe me," drawled Gretchen. "Business, not pleasure. If I wanted to visit this many heroin addicts I would have went to the local park."

The woman's smile flickered, seemingly considering if the innocent-looking girl in front of her had actually said that.

"We need access to the file of one Lucy Ferrea," said Irving, nodding politely.

"Well, I'm afraid I can't just let…"

"Adyson." Gretchen said.

"MORTAL KOMBAT!" Adyson vaulted the desk and slammed several of the woman's pressure points in quick succession, before gently lowering the unconscious body to the ground.

"Morality isn't a worry of yours, is it?" observed Irving.

"Oh, please," snapped Gretchen. "If anything, I pointed out a glaring flaw in their security system."

Papers flew into the air as Adyson unlocked the filing cabinet with the receptionist's key, sorting through documents. Gretchen held on tightly to the Smile Away files that Isabella had written a year before – she had read them on the train.

"I don't care, I'm still free, you can't take the sky from… Ah! Here it is Gretch!"

Gretchen caught the airborne file and sat on the desk. Several children looked at them inquisitively, but said nothing because no one really liked the unconscious woman anyway.

"Let's see, hurm. Oh this is helpful," Gretchen snapped. "It gives us her name, and the fact that she doesn't have allergies! The parentage, date of birth, everything is just blank."

"No other name," said Adyson. "No other alias. Nothing in her pockets but knives and lint."

"So we wasted our time?" asked Irving.

Gretchen frowned. She entertained the notion of punching Irving briefly and then dismissed it. Logic decreed that they search the room, but she knew nothing would come up.

"Ah well," said Adyson. "Perhaps she's not our perp."

"She is," insisted Gretchen. "We just don't have anything to go on."

"Well, she talks a lot, maybe she'll let something slip."

"Talks a lot…" said Gretchen slowly. "That's it!"

Gretchen almost said 'Adyson, you're a genius!', but stopped, because this would have been clichéd and a lie. She waved the Smile Away files.

"Isabella said that Smile Away played propaganda non-stop, delivered b a girl's voice! It's Ferrea!"

"Bit of a long shot," said Irving. "But if it'll make you happy, then fine."

"Okay," said Adyson. "I wasn't able to reach the Chief this morning, and if your guess is correct, she's alone with the psycho."

Gretchen's glasses flashed. "Precisely. We require passage back to Danville immediately."

They bolted to the train station as fast as they could, but all the trains for Danville were delayed. They tried to phone their parents to get a lift home, but there was no answer. There were no buses, taxis or anything coming out of Danville. The three amateur detectives cursed and shouted, but they began the long walk home regardless, narrowly avoiding a speeding blue sedan and trailing down the darkening roads. Gretchen's mood was not improved.

* * *

"Morning benders," said 27.

"Please excuse my, ah, brother," 28 said with a nervous giggle. "He, ah, took a bit too much monocane."

"Your brother's foul mouth does not concern us," said one of the men. "What does is the fact that Fox is missing, and Ferrea has not contacted us at all regarding this."

The twins looked at one another, realising that they were about to be called into action once again.

"And you want us to take the bitch out?" said 27.

The council murmured amongst themselves, snapping and banging fists onto their tables, but the general consensus was one of agreement. A jet plane was waiting for the twins at a nearby private airport. They were to make sure the Rapture machines were secured first, and then terminate Lucy Ferrea.

"Terminate," stressed a council member. "With extreme prejudice."

"How do think two pistols looks?" said 27 later, as their car approached the airport.

"What, like, ah, akimbo?" 28 asked, eyes appearing over the top of his dog-eared bible.

"Yeah, like that."

"Recoil'd probably break your nose."

"On anyone else, yeah," said 27 indignantly. "But remember, it's me, so you have to take into account my sheer awesomeness."

"Oh, of course. I forgot."

28 sighed. He really hated violence, and he had liked Ferrea. But, he supposed there was no other way to do things now.

* * *

When she swept into power, screaming filled the streets. When she swept into power, shattered windows were heard across town. When she swept into power, the people lay in the road, struggling in vain to fight the things that invaded their bodies and their feeble minds.

When she swept into the house, she saw Linda and Lawrence Flynn-Fletcher try to get the children out of the house before they were taken. She saw the husband and wife eventually go down, their failure written on their faces as they submitted to her command. Isabella managed to stay conscious as the Rapture unit infected her thoughts, catching sight of her.

"I trusted you," Isabella spat, sinking to the ground, bulging eyes betraying her fear.

"I trust you too," said Ferrea. "But I don't see what that has to do with this situation."

Candace Flynn attempted to drive anyone she could find to safety. Ferb's improved Rapture unit crashed through her window, and the car spun off the road. Ferrea wondered if the young woman was dead.

Even the family's pet platypus writhed and twisted, trying to avoid its capture, but the unit soon clamped onto the nervous system and another was added to her already vast command.

Phineas sat on the edge of his bed, faded blue eyes staring into space. He barely reacted when she walked in.

"Have you come to kill me?" he asked, almost hopefully.

"Mr Flynn, I did say I was a big fan. I'm not going to kill you."

"What did I do to earn your admiration?" Phineas said in a detached, dejected voice.

"Why, you killed my father of course. Now come with me."

She took him by the hand, Fenris following swiftly behind them, and walked out into the street. The sun was going down as she indicated him to look at Smile Away in the distance on the hill. She made him watch as the repaired building rose into the sky, a terrible, fear-inspiring flying fortress built by Ferb Fletcher himself. As the rumbling palace drew closer and lowered ladders for her to ascend to her place of command, she smiled at him.

"And so it came to pass, Mr Flynn, that Danville became mine. For I am many things, Mr Flynn, but here and now, I am God."

When she swept into power, all of Danville bowed before her.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! I know this is slightly late, but it's also slightly longer, so fair's fair, huh? 27, by the way, is supposed to read as a typical online pre-pubescent Halo player. So, here's where we actually get dark I suppose, sorta like chapter 9 in Tempus Fugit, where everything just goes to hell for everyone. Except Ferrea. She's like Littlefinger in Game of Thrones, she always benefits. Until next time!**


	9. You Can't Take The Sky From Me

**Presenting his most esteemed rambler, the author! Hello again, this chapter seems a little light compared to the last one, although that's maybe because it's a bit joke-y in tone. Anyway,**

**9 - You Can't Take The Sky From Me**

_**In which there are slippers, Irish assassins, and Irving's moaning.**_

* * *

"I suppose you're wondering why I've brought you all up here," said Ferrea, lounging in her father's newly furnished office. "Well, let me explain. But first, I know you're all scared, confused and other emotions that I do not fully understand. I have a way of subverting this."

She leapt from the chair and walked round the desk to where Ferb, Isabella, Candace, Baljeet and Buford stood. Phineas sat in the corner, glancing up at the scene but barely taking anything in. Ferrea gestured towards her feet, and the controlled teenagers all looked down simultaneously.

"These are my fluffy pink slippers," said Lucy. "They are pink, and comfortingly fluffy."

Ferb did his best to keep his oppressed look of defeat and resentment on his face, but they were _very_ pink and fluffy.

"Whenever I have to deliver bad news, or distressing orders," said Ferrea, "I shall wear the fluffy pink slippers for comical juxtaposition. This way, your inner torment and hopelessness shall be balanced out by the adorableness of my slippers. The absurdity will make you laugh, will it not?"

"I'll tell you what'll make me laugh," snapped Candace. "If you take a running jump off this flying base."

Fenris growled from his position, abandoning his duties, which consisted chiefly of rubbing his ears against the fluffy pink slippers. Lucy made a very mocking face, a child's caricature of what a sad person looked like.

"Please be quiet, Ms Flynn."

Candace struggled to open her mouth again, but although she moved it, no sound came from within. Her head screamed internally, and she grasped at it, tears of frustration beginning to well up. She tried to cry out, but once again, although she tried, her body betrayed her. She thought about making a lunge for Ferrea, but knew that she would be ordered to stand down almost as soon as she attempted it. The scarred Indian boy on her left let out a sympathetic noise.

"Please, Miss Ironside," Baljeet pleaded. "Let her speak!"

"It's not Ironside. I don't have a birth certificate, my name is what I decide. It's Lucy Ferrea."

"Voice of Fate," snarled Isabella.

"You are not as intimidating as you think you are Isabella." Lucy's gaze locked with the would-be dissenter. "Your voice makes every word you say funny. It's quite sad really. You are such an angry little girl, aren't you?"

"Let me go and you'll see how angry I am, you…"

"Attack."

Isabella felt herself lurch forward, and she steered in the direction of her tormentor as best she could, ready to deliver a staggered punch to the face. She lashed out, but just when her fist was inches away, Lucy spoke.

"Miss."

Isabella yelled in panic as her arm was suddenly pulled downward, as if by invisible chains, and she lost all balance, stumbling over and cracking her face against the desk. She let out an impotent cry of rage as blood trickled down her forehead.

"Did you learn something today Isabella? If you feel bad, remember – here are fluffy pink slippers to entertain you!" Ferrea actually sounded quite hopeful that someone other than Fenris would appreciate her slippers.

Phineas shifted awkwardly, rose shakily to his feet. Ferrea's smiling green eyes looked straight at him, light glinting mockingly, daring him to do something. He sat back down, a pale, empty shell. Lucy felt a pang of disappointment – she had been expecting so much more from Flynn, and had hoped to meet some sort of intellectual equal. The boy before her was weak, and although it pained her to realise it, boring. She sighed.

"Anyway, the reason I've called you all up to my flying base," a phrase she really enjoyed saying, "is that all of you would likely form some sort of resistance, even with your minds being controlled, excepting of course, Mr Flynn over there. So you're here under my direct supervision. I suppose I should get Mr Doofenshmirtz and the remaining Fireside Girls up here too. Locate them."

The central computer, which had been moved from the bunker, buzzed slightly. Ferrea's Rapture unit made a searching sound and the computer screen displayed one blinking dot on a map of Danville.

"Unit…335, what is your name?"

"Holly," came the distorted voice, muffled from the Rapture unit speaker by Ferrea's hair.

Isabella smirked. "Looks like you didn't get everyone. We…"

"Go run around in circles, Isabella until you have something constructive to say." Ferrea sat down at the desk as Isabella left the room, trying desperately not to. "Honestly. I saved her life, but you'd think I was her worst enemy. I know how you feel Mr Rains."

Ferb swallowed nervously, keeping his gaze away from the display Ferrea was talking to. The real Thomas Rains' corpse had been mounted on the wall like some sort of sick hunting trophy, the limbs dangling uselessly and occasionally rattling together.

"So," said Ferrea. "I'm missing two Fireside Girls. Ms Sweetwater, and that… distasteful 24601. I suppose I shall have to find them. Or rather, someone else will find them for me. Then…"

The speaker crackled into life, but it was not Holly. The map on the computer screen became unfocused as it rapidly moved and zoomed towards Danville Airport, indicating the speaking unit.

"You ordered us to contact you if anything unusual came up," spoke a grown man, clearly struggling to disobey. "There's an unscheduled flight, a jet, that's just appeared suddenly on the schedule with an ETA of two hours. This has come down up on high, prince of darkness stuff, I've never seen these authorisation codes before."

Ferrea smiled her lazy smile. "When it arrives, authorise it. I'll be there shortly. Thank you."

She rolled back out from the seat, remembering to take off her slippers and clumsily stumbled into proper shoes. She hurried out of the room quite quickly, rattling off her orders in quick succession.

"Fenris, Mr Flynn, Mr Fletcher, come with me please. The rest of you, please stay exactly where you are until I give you another order. I have some visitors to greet. And by greet, I mean possibly kill."

Phineas noticed the dirty looks shot at him, his friends and relatives practically screaming at him to do something, he wasn't under her control, he could help them, he could… He did nothing, and dumbly followed Lucy.

When they had gone, the room remained silent for some time.

"So," said Baljeet. "Nice weather we are having."

"Yeah, it's really something," said Buford. "What about you Candace? Oh. Right."

Buford was not particularly smart, but he knew that looks could not actually kill. He suspected, however, that Candace's glare might put him in the ICU for six months.

"Rains? Any opinions on the weather? Really? Wow. You're one vicious meteorologist."

* * *

"I pride myself on being observant," said Gretchen, "and last time I observed, there was not a flying building invading the Danville skyline."

Irving made a sound halfway between a squeal and a squawk. "We leave for two seconds and everything goes to hell."

"Does this mean my Firefly Blu-Rays aren't going to be delivered?" asked Adyson.

The three teenagers stood on the long road just out of Danville, but Smile Away was fully visible, cutting through sky and continually circling around the town that it had conquered. Thick clouds of smoke, turned red by the setting sun, rose up from the suburbs and enveloped taller buildings. Most disconcerting of all, was the lack of the sound of cars. The streets looked completely deserted.

"Ferrea," said Gretchen with a snarl. "It has to be her."

"There was a battle for Danville and I was left out? God will not permit this to happen!"

"Well," said Irving loudly. "Guess we're the only people left. We'll need to start propagating the sp-!" As always, it was Adyson's elbow that cut him off.

"Keep your tragically proletarian thoughts to yourself Irving," snapped Gretchen. "We have greater matters to attend to than your fantasies. Let's keep moving. I want to know what's going on before I charge into things."

Irving was not a particularly healthy young boy, and he could not quite keep up with the sprint Adyson set up. Even Gretchen was ahead of him. Eventually they had to stop and drag him forcibly until they entered the suburbs. Gretchen crouched upon reaching a hedge, cleaning her glasses automatically. She had entered a mood that left no questions about who was in charge.

"Adyson, status report."

Adyson peered around a fence, glancing down the street. Gretchen could tell that the other girl still was not taking the situation completely seriously.

"Seems all clear. No signs of intelligent life. Rather like a Twilight screening."

Irving sniffed and wiped yet another stream of blood away from his nose. "We should head to my house. Got some Phineas and Ferb inventions there, could hold 'em off?"

"Ah, like when the Second Dimension invaded?"

"Yeah… do you think we should have told the OWCA that they forgot to mind wipe us?"

"Quiet," said Gretchen. "Something's coming."

Adyson and Irving immediately went prone as the sound of an engine growled through the darkening streets. A large pickup truck turned the corner, its ancient engine making worrying noises as it hit potholes. A stern military man was driving, eyes dead on the road. But there was no mistaking the flash of green hair. In the back of the truck rode Ferrea, Ferb, Phineas and some sort of pharmacist. Ferrea was talking animatedly to the pharmacist, but the Flynn-Fletchers stayed silent. The unnoticed girls and boy stayed down until the truck trundled past completely.

"Hurm," said Gretchen when they had gone. "I wonder why no one resists."

"Well, duh," said Adyson. "Mind control, obviously."

"Don't be stupid. Or, more stupid than usual. It's impossible."

"If you're right," said Irving, "she's from Smile Away, so it's not much of a stretch."

Gretchen grumbled, thinking this to be a rather ridiculous outcome to what had seemed a rather straight forward case of revenge. Occam's Razor dictated that the simplest explanation was always the best, and she wondered what was simpler – that everyone had agreed to help Ferrea, or that Ferrea had suddenly reached Ferb Fletcher levels of creativity.

"Hurm. Alright, let's head to Irving's. We'll operate from there, bring down this little putsch before it gets boring."

They found the streets quiet enough that they were able to walk out in the open without fear of discovery. However, upon turning into Irving's street, they all dived down, cursing as lowly as possible. The pickup truck had stopped in front of Irving's house.

"Mom," Irving whispered, and Gretchen glanced over, locating the middle-aged woman staring vacantly as Ferrea spoke to her.

"…not home either?" Ferrea was saying. "Oh dear, looks like another fugitive you missed Mr Fletcher. But that's not why I'm here right now. I need some things from your cellar."

They could only watch as Phineas and Ferb's inventions were led out of the front door from the basement, including the Beak suit, the android creator, parts of a satellite.

"Hey, this is mine!" exclaimed the pharmacist, holding the Memory-Eraser-inator.

Irving muttered something about being the one to actually find it and look after it, but no one was really listening. Soon, the pickup truck started up again, a small explosion signalling that the engine had not yet rusted away. Ferrea stood on the back as it raced away in the direction of the airport, and Gretchen could have sworn that their eyes met for a moment.

_Hurm. Are we playing a game Lucy? _She found some respect for the redhead buried under the usual loathing. When Irving made to get up, she pulled him back down roughly.

"What the hell?"

"Gretch?" said Adyson, face looking genuinely concerned for once. "What do you make of it?"

"Irving's mother has obviously been ordered to report us if we approach, see?" The woman was still standing there, eyes surveying the street. "I wager that our houses and the Fireside lodges will be similar."

"I want to go home!" Irving complained. "It's like half eleven and I haven't had any dinner!"

"Wait, wait, wait," said Adyson excitedly. "I have a cunning plan."

"That does not fill me with confidence," replied Gretchen.

Adyson dramatically whispered the location of a base of operations where they could also rest. Gretchen was forced to agree that it was a fairly decent idea. Not as good as it would have been if she had come up with it, but okay.

* * *

"How many men have you shot?" 28 asked suddenly, turning a page in his bible.

"Shot? Or killed?" said 27.

"Is there a difference?"

"It's actually the same number, because I'm awesome."

28 sighed and slammed back against the headrest repeatedly. Sometimes there was no talking to his brother. The roar of the jet engines was almost a soothing alternative to listening to his brother talk about guns. Their aunt sat across from them, leafing lazily through a newspaper.

"Hey, Mam?" called 27. "Can we watch an in-flight movie? They have those on jets?"

"No," she said, not looking up. "Too much violence on TV."

A defiant groan escaped from 27's lips, but quickly nosedived in volume as he realised his possible insubordination. He turned back to 28.

"Why d'you ask me about killing anyway? You've been with me most of the time."

"I remember actively killing, ah, one man," said 28, "and that was when he lunged at you. I clean up, but you do the work."

"Damn right. I think the number's around twelve. Wait, fifteen. Add five possibly. Crap, no, subtract two. Add three. Divide by three. Times two. Negative two."

"So," said 28, the trace of a smile apparent. "Twelve."

"They tend to bleed into each other, I forget. Sue me."

28 returned to a parable that he had read several times before, practicing a hymn in his head. _Sanguis bibimus. Corpus edimus. Tolle corpus Sa…_

"_Uh, this is your captain speaking. We're entering into our descent, and if you look out the window you'll see some sort of doomsday fortress."_

"Jesus titty-fu…"

"Don't blaspheme," snapped 28, but he was sorely tempted himself.

Smile Away blocked out most of Danville, bright lights shining from the various little buildings in a huge flying complex. Birds flitted in among walls and offices, the thunder of huge engines audible even from the distance of the twins.

"My God," said their aunt. "So that's what she was up to. Get your guns ready. This is worse than I thought."

The jet landed with a bump, shaking slightly as it slowed to a halt. 27 cocked his dual handguns, feeling his heart rate pick up already. 28 nervously loaded a Winchester rifle, hoping desperately that he would not need to fire it. The jet door hissed open and their aunt stepped forward, looking out on the airport, which was darker than it ought to be.

28 did not actually hear the gunshot, but one moment his hated aunt was standing, judging look on her face, and the next she was sent sprawling backwards, a smoking hole obliterating most of her face.

"Surrounded, eh?" said 27, barely glancing at his aunt. "This would be a pretty awesome way to go."

The sound of a megaphone screeched through the jet, backed by the sounds of many guns being loaded and prepared.

"It's been a while!" called a female's voice. Ferrea.

"How you doing Lucy?" 27 yelled back.

"Can't complain. What do you think of Danville so far?"

"Can't really complain either. They told us, y'know, come out to the city, have a few laughs. You seem to be doing well for yourself!"

"It was hard work, I'll admit. Is 28 there too?"

"I'm, uh, here," said 28, a shaky reply. Some crazed notion seized him, something his brother had said earlier in the week. "You know we, ah, have to take orders from Smile Away, Lucy."

"I'm aware. I'm sorry in advance."

"Lucy," called 27, "I promise not to shoot you in the face!"

"Thanks, Seven."

"No, wait!" 28 cried desperately. "Listen! I'm, I'm, ah, going to put my gun down. Listen to me, and I'll come out and we'll talk about this."

Lucy liked to talk – she loved to probe at other people's opinions and motives to see how much she shared with them. It was 28's gamble. He dropped his rifle to the ground and walked up the aisle, until he stood out in open air, facing approximately twenty men, all armed. Lucy stood on the back of a pick up truck, smiling at him.

"The hell are you doing, you poof!" hissed 27, but his brother was not listening.

"Like I said…" his start was slightly rocky. Sweat gathered on his forehead. "We take orders from Smile Away…"

"Forgive me, but is this going anywhere?"

28 gulped. "As far as we're concerned, you _are _Smile Away. So we could, ah, listen to you. It's a council, right? So, ah, whoever's in charge is a little subjective."

There was a click as Ferrea activated the megaphone again. A distorted rumbling came through, before 28 realised Lucy was starting to laugh. She cast the megaphone away, relaying an order to the men, who immediately lowered their weapons. She approached the jet as 28 hopped down.

"I was hoping you would see it my way 28. I'm sorry about your aunt."

"Actually, she was the only contact we had with the rest of Smile Away, so it, ah, helped my argument."

Lucy hugged her old acquaintance warmly. It would be nice to have some followers who were genuinely loyal, rather than controlled minions who were determined to exploit any possible loopholes in their orders. She pointed at the barely lit portions of Danville, darkened under Smile Away's shadow.

"See that? That's a library, a big one."

28's pale, feminine face suddenly broke into a broad smile.

"Can I go there?"

"That's why I pointed it out." _One down, _she thought. "Seven, how you holding up?"

"I dunno, Luce, my trigger fingers are getting a little itchy."

Ferrea chuckled. "How about I provide you with some targets then?"

"…Listening."

"Two Fireside Girls and a boy. The girls are rather efficient, competent opponents. You might enjoy fighting them."

Three targets were better than one. A scuffling noise, and then 27 appeared at the door of the jet, pistols holstered. Instead of 28's short hop to ground, he leapt and rolled in mid-air, landing on his feet as if expecting applause. He grinned, pointing at Ferrea's pickup truck.

"Only if I can use _that_," he breathed excitedly.

Ferrea looked at the Beak suit.

"Very well."

_And that, _she thought, _makes two._

* * *

**Well then, thanks for sticking with me this far! Adyson paraphrases General Patton in her frustration about being left out of any possible fighting. I guess you noticed the reason why Ferrea refers to Gretchen by her patch number - there's no second name to go on and I don't really want to make one up now. If anyone can guess what 'hymn' 28 is going over in his head, I'll be impressed. Until next time.**


	10. It's A Trap!

**Hello! Sorry for the late update, I've been rather busy, but it's not that late, I suppose. Anywat, without further ado...**

**10 - It's A Trap!**

_**In which tea is made, a broadcast is commenced and the Flynn-Fletcher house gets another unnecessary makeover.**_

* * *

Ferb awoke feverishly, his shivering rubbing the sweat against his clothes. The noise in his head was pounding, the spider-like device attached to his neck buzzing. Bright orange rays shone through the shutters, but as it was the height of summer, he knew it could easily be five o'clock in the morning. The sickly heat travelled through his body, and he felt fabric stick to him as he moved. Steam met his face.

"I, ah, brought you some tea," said 28, kneeling down to the other boy's level.

Ferb took the cup with trembling hands, eyes darting around the room. He recognised it instantly, and remembered – he was in one of the children's rooms in Smile Away, and had been sleeping on what remained of a cot. His limbs ached.

"Have you ever tasted American tea?" asked 28. "It's strange, they leave the bag in. I made it properly, like you asked."

Once Ferb's throat was wet enough to speak, he croaked, "Like I asked?"

"You, ah, woke up and asked that. And before that I took you to the toilet, remember?"

Ferb blinked, finally looking at his guard. The boy before him was rather feminine, the black hair pulled into a ponytail making it easy to mistake him for a girl. However, there was something slightly off that took Ferb a moment to realise. 28's limbs were a little longer than they should have been in proportion to his body, and his voice was unusually high for teenager. In fact, the more Ferb looked, the more the information compiled into a strange, but fitting conclusion.

"Castrato," he said eventually.

"I suppose," said 28, sitting on the edge of the cot. He did not seem offended. "I'd have to ask, but I think that term is usually a Catholic one. The end result is the same though."

Ferb immediately felt guilty for being so unusually blunt – he was finding himself quite liking this affable jailor. He swung his legs round and left the cot, sipping the tea, which was surprisingly well made.

"I, ah, managed to get the other thing you asked done," said 28.

Ferb raised an eyebrow. He must have been very feverish last night – he wondered if the same was happening for everyone under the Rapture network.

"Lucy wasn't too open at first, but, ah, she let me take Thomas and bury him again. You kept saying that last night." He waved a thick book jokingly. "You wouldn't let me concentrate."

Ferb made a minimal, but genuine gesture of apology. He awkwardly murmured his thanks in a way that made the castrato laugh, baggy clothes shaking like huge white wings.

"It's alright. I sort of liked Thomas anyway. Can't say he liked me, but Seven says I see the good in anyone. You know, I, ah, got him that trench coat. Never heard any thanks for it."

Ferb gulped down the rest of the tea, almost instantly regretting it as it scalded down his already painful throat. Once he finished spluttering and his eyes ceased to water unnecessarily, he staggered weakly to the open door of his room. 28 had to support him once or twice. All of the 'rooms' were occupied, and Ferb managed to spot his father and step-mother in one of them, doubtlessly being used to keep Phineas in line. Isabella walked past, carrying some machinery with a vacant look on her face. Ferb tried to catch her attention but she took no notice, trundling on blankly. Everyone was rising slowly, and Ferb realised why – he could hear a voice, both inside and outside his head whispering to wake up. He struggled to open his fob watch, before remembering that it had never opened.

"It's six o'clock, if you're wondering," said 28.

"Jesus' holy bell-end, what time does Lucy call this?" A high-pitched, extremely irritated voice cried out. 27 stumbled along the walkway, and 28 realised with dismay that his twin had discovered a whiskey stash. "Hey, Eight! While I hate to play up the drinking Irish stereotype, you gotta try this!"

"No thanks," sniffed 28, moving his head out of the way of the bottle being offered. "I'll have something non-alcoholic, if there is anything."

27 scoffed. "As per, one gay drink for my gay brother, and one normal drink for me because I am normal."

_As normal as a castrato gets, I suppose,_ thought Ferb, but remained quietly amused. 27 noticed him anyway, grinning.

"See, this guy gets it! Here, you're Fletcher, right? You gotta add more weapons to my battle-suit, right now it's only good for making egg-related puns."

"Well, ah, say what you like," said 28, "but it certainly has an egg-cellent design."

"Quite egg-citing," replied 27. "I'm hoping to egg-xecute some fugitives with it."

"I'd make a pun too," said Ferb groggily, "but trying to think of one is scrambling my brain."

27 burst out laughing, finding puns amusing in the way only a drunk person could. Suddenly, Ferb's Rapture unit crackled to life, and Ferrea's voice came through, tired and strained.

"_I am not a violent girl,"_ it said. _"However, the next person to make a pun, or a play on words, as I believe it is called, shall be flogged."_

The twins lost all semblance of humour and led Ferb into the central hall, where an old invention was waiting to be improved.

* * *

Gretchen growled with distaste as soon as her eyes were open – she had kept her glasses on and the frames had dug into her face. She rose up on her arms, nearly falling off the couch in the process. As Adyson had guessed, the Flynn-Fletcher house had been deserted, as according to her 'main characters would be hit first'. The door had been open, and the trio had simply made themselves at home. Gretchen tried in vain to drag herself from the couch, before realising that her leg was trapped under a snoring Adyson.

"Ah," she said. "How disgusting."

Her attempts to pull free eventually succeeded, but not in a favourable manner – upon coming loose, Gretchen tumbled face first to the floor with a groan. The noise caused Adyson's eyes to snap open, and a grin to automatically work its way across her face.

"Look before you leap Gretch."

"Degenerate," mumbled the prone girl.

"Where's Irving?" Adyson yawned, stretching across the couch.

"Likely sniffing Phineas' bed sheets."

"You are correct sir!" Irving declared as he entered the room.

"Dancing with yourself again?" Adyson said slyly.

Gretchen detached herself from the ensuing discussion of carnal matters that she had no interest in and applied her thoughts to defeating Danville's newest occupier. When she tuned back into reality with nothing to go on, she realised that the television was playing, some children's cartoon entertaining Adyson.

"What are you doing?" Gretchen asked.

"I always watch Phineas and Ferb in the mornings," replied the girl, sitting cross-legged like a patient toddler.

"How does that even work?" Irving asked, echoing Gretchen's thoughts.

"Try not to think about it too hard."

The cartoon title sequence was only on screen for a brief second before the picture crackled out, a red card displayed instead. Slowly, classical music began to play as words became apparent on the card – 'Fireside Chats With Lucy'.

"Is that Tchaikovsky?"

"Waltz of the Flowers," confirmed Gretchen.

"You have got to be kidding me," Adyson complained.

The title card faded out, to be replaced by a cheerful roaring fireplace, crackling logs spraying bright orange sparks like little more than dust. A figure leaned against the fireplace, melodramatically gazing at a snow globe, an expensive-looking dressing gown wrapped around her body. In the foreground, a second figure faced the camera.

"Wow, who's that?" said Irving, sitting up.

"Agreed," said Adyson, mirroring Irving's movements. "I'll get caught if we get to meet her."

"That's a male," sighed Gretchen.

"What? How do you know?"

"The lack of mammaries was the first clue in a long list."

"You're not exactly great yours…" Adyson began, but the boy onscreen began to speak.

"_Hello, ah, people of Danville," _A high-pitched voice spoke in a noticeable Irish accent. _"Presenting her Excellency, Miss Lucy Ferrea!"_

Lucy turned and looked directly into the camera.

"_Good morning Danville. This is the Voice of Fate. I understand that many of you are feeling distressed, repressed and even oppressed. Allow me to explain, and put your charming minds at ease."_

"Can't tell if trolling…" groaned Adyson, "or exceptionally insane."

Lucy moved towards the camera, sitting down on a rich armchair, keeping up the rather disturbing air of a calm businesswoman. A businesswoman, Gretchen mused, who would kill you for no particular reason. In fact, Gretchen figured that Ferrea was about two steps from dancing about on screen wearing someone's skin.

"_Now, I have taken control of this town, but don't panic. In fact, I order you all to resume your daily activities as if nothing was wrong. With the exception of the people joining me here in my base, you are all free to live your lives. Slowly, you will join me here, but for now, enjoy yourselves. Also, if any people from out of town ask what is going on, simply reply 'Phineas and Ferb'. No one will argue with that."_

"Hurm," said Gretchen, "Fairly smart."

"If everyone's going about their routine though," said Irving, "it might make our job easier."

The Irish boy who had spoken earlier hurried off screen. The camera zoomed towards Lucy as she lit a cigar, but refrained from actually smoking it. Her nose wrinkled in distaste at the smoke, but it did make her seem harmless, as Gretchen had realised the intention was.

"_Can you hear me, Miss Sweetwater?"_

"Gretch, the TV's talking to me again…"

"I know Adyson."

"_24601, do I also have your attention?"_

"Why do people always neglect to mention me?" Irving said. His horoscope claimed that he was a background type.

"_You are entirely welcome to surrender. If you do, you'll simply be added to the network and we'll forget about all this unpleasantness. If not… Well, it could be nasty. But I'd like you to remember, like all I have done, this is an act of love."_

The picture cut out, and the cartoon resumed on screen. Gretchen, Adyson and Irving sat dumbfounded, still looking at the screen. None of them could actually make sense of what had just happened.

"Do you think she knows we're here?"

"Possibly," said Gretchen. "She is playing with us. I suppose we'll have to be on our way to avoid any repercussions."

Adyson suddenly leapt to her feet, almost babbling with excitement, pointing towards the kitchen.

"Gretch, the garage! Ferb's project's in there, we can use it! Ferrea will never see it coming, plus I get to smash stuff!"

Gretchen looked at her hyperactive friend thoughtfully. "What exactly is this project?"

"You'll know it when you see it."

Irving fixed his glasses nervously. What would have been a sinister gesture if performed by Gretchen became an incredibly awkward, insecure one on him. He opened his mouth to say something when the wall collapsed in on itself, the shockwave sending all three teenagers to the ground.

Gretchen immediately darted for the kitchen, not caring to find out exactly what had just redecorated the Flynn-Fletcher house. Irving crawled after her, trying to stem the blood flowing from his nose. Adyson however, stood up to face it.

The powered exoskeleton hovered at least two feet from the floor, arms spread open, giving a crucifixion pose. The previous black and yellow colours had left no trace – the suit was now a sophisticated silver-white colour that seemed unstained by the rubble and dust.

"Adyson, what are you doing?" Gretchen shrieked, peering around the corner.

"Don't worry," said Adyson. "Only bad guys die in cartoons." She stood her ground, staring into the 'eyes' of the battle suit. "Dramatic entrances are my thing! You didn't even have a quip to go with yours! Who the hell do you think you are?"

The sound of gears and hydraulics accompanied the movements of the suit as it finally seemed to notice Adyson. Beneath a bird-like mask, an exposed mouth twitched into a smile.

"What are you, dense?" The voice was distorted by some inbuilt scrambler. "Are you retarded or something? Who the hell do you think we are? We're the Goddamn Beak, man."

A second voice squeaked out from the mid-section. "Uh, hi. That's 27, I'm 28, and we're going to be your executioners today."

"Oh, are you the pretty one?" Adyson asked, watching Gretchen creep closer in the corner of her eye.

"I'm a boy!" protested the second voice.

"Enough of these Oxford pleasantries!" snapped 27. "Prepare to die, pedestrian!"

"Oh come on," Adyson interrupted. "Prepare to die? Really? How cliché."

27 paused, the mechanical arms dropping slightly.

"Sorry, it's just, you know, battle armour. It's so awesome my brain got left behind for a minute."

"Just a minute?" said 28.

"Nah, it's understandable," Adyson said. "You should probably open with a pop culture reference, that's always a winne- Hey!"

Gretchen grabbed Adyson's forearm and pulled her violently from the room, darting through the kitchen and into the garage before the twins realised what was happening. The garage door slammed behind them. Irving was stamping desperately on the panel on the floor.

"Quick, Adyson, how do we open this thing?"

Adyson darted over to the wall, finding the switch and nearly tugging it from the wall in her excitement.

Nothing happened.

"_You are not Ferb Fletcher,"_ said a computerised voice.

"You're extracting the urine," said Gretchen in disbelief.

The roar of engines circled the garage, and the tiny window granted them a brief glimpse of the battle suit flying round repeatedly, laughing.

"Hey girls!" called 27. "Because my brother's a wimpy poof, we're gonna give you three minutes before I tear the roof off and come and get you! I'd prefer if you came out and fought though, I want a good fight."

Adyson danced exasperatedly on the spot, repeatedly pressing the switch to no avail.

"_You do not have authorisation."_

"Please!"

"_Ah-ah-ah, you didn't say the magic word, ah-ah-ah…"_

* * *

The council met again in the same room, bumping into one another and chatting lazily as they went to find their seats. Something was going on – apparently, the twins' plane had returned this morning. They had dispatched a car to bring them back to the hotel and report. They eagerly awaited confirmation of Ferrea's demise.

Twenty minutes passed before the driver entered the room, standing before the council, the stink of sweat and petrol mixing in the air.

"Council members, I escorted the passengers from the jet back here."

"Excellent," said the man at the top of the room. His name was Saxon. "Show them in."

"They made me," said the driver. "It's not my fault."

"What an earth are you blabbering about, you idiot!" Saxon snapped. "Bring them in!"

The door burst open, and Saxon immediately realised what was going on. The swat team charged into the room, pointing their weapons directly at the council members. A couple of women screamed, and one man began babbling with promises and bribes, already desperate to save his own worthless skin.

The armed men stood silent, as if awaiting orders. Saxon's laugh echoed around the chamber. Several people turned their heads, panic and confusion written on their faces. Saxon's laugh became ever more hysterical as he doubled over, tears streaming from his eyes.

"Don't you see?" he shouted. "We're done! She's used the Rapture network against us! She's turned everything on its head!"

The team moved up the steps, standing at the exit to each row and aisle, keeping everyone in their seats. Saxon threw back his head and roared with laughter. He wondered if Ferrea was listening, or if the men were following orders issued hours before.

The team opened fire wordlessly, a storm of bullets that was over as quickly as it had begun, but seemed to last forever. Round after round ripped through council member after council member. Some attempted to head for the door, clambering over the corpses of their friends and co-workers, only to end up as part of the pile, slumping down the stairs and over seats with torn bodies and faces.

Saxon was still laughing after six bullets to the torso, and even managed to struggle out into the aisle, leaking vital blood without much notice. He tripped over the corpse of his secretary, a woman he had once had an affair with, and tumbled down several steps. He heard the thick boots approach.

He was still giggling in between spluttering blood when they wrenched his head back from the floor and spilled the contents of his head across the carpet with one bullet.

"We're done," said the team leader, pressing on the Rapture unit on the back of his head.

"_Good," _said Ferrea. _"Now you need to get back to that private airport and get back on the jet home. I'm pulling strings over here, but I can only do so much. If you're caught, kill yourselves. Sorry, but just a precaution. And explode the hotel before you leave."_

"Yes Miss," said the team as one, and trudged from the room.

Back in Danville, Lucy swivelled round in her office chair and flashed Phineas a pleased smile.

"Exactly as planned," she said triumphantly.

* * *

**Thank you for reading. 27's line regarding the order of drinks is a direct quote from In Bruges - the Irish hitmen main characters were not originally models for the twins, but they've sort of taken on aspects of them since, so I thought I'd put in the reference. Do play Waltz of the Flowers while reading Ferrea's speech - it helps the insanity levels. Other songs I considered using for Ferrea's broadcast included Mr Blue Sky and Ode to Joy. So anyway, you can...**

"Uh, hey, Mr Author?"

**Yes, Adyson?**

"I just wanted to point out a teensy-tiny flaw in your otherwise no-doubt flawless nonsense, but if I'm aware of the fourth wall, shouldn't I be aware of where the plot is going?"

**No. No you shouldn't.**

"Why not? I want to find out what happens, and it'll be a big help!"

**Silence you fool! Do you want to end up like Thomas? He tried the same and look what I did to him!**

"Come on, you dour Scottish bastard!"

**Enough! See you all next time. Adyson will remain trapped in the fourth wall until then.**

"NOOO! There must be other factors!"

**Adieu.**


	11. Comfortably Numb

**Hello! Once again, I am sorry for the delay, but I really was busy. I swear. Possibly. Nah, I was genuinely occupied. **

"I'm free!"

**Anyway,**

**11 - Comfortably Numb**

_**In which the Flynn-Fletcher garage is also redecorated.**_

* * *

Ferrea dangled her legs happily over the edge of Smile Away, gazing at the occupied town in the midday sun. A cool breeze wafted past her, blowing through her hair. The image made her consider getting a cape. That would blow in the breeze all the time, but she was not sure whether people would find it impressive or pretentious. Perhaps a simple red cloak, draped over one shoulder. Of course, the Fluffy Pink Slippers could not be worn at the same time. And obviously she would need to get a matching fluffy pink dressing gown soon.

_Great leaders must have to worry about fashion all the time._

_Just hurry up and finish the plan. Move onto the next step. Fletcher could be finished in five minutes._

_No. I want him to take as long as possible. I want every possible loophole and sabotage fixed, I want it perfect. It is my life on the line._

_Our life._

_Aheheh, you should get a gown tailored. Like Caligula, now there's a guy who knew fashion…_

_After all, this is for the good of everyone, they'll become pure._

_Instead of my symbolism and messages, you intend to enforce. You can't change people._

…_Or a big suit of armour that goes clink when you walk…_

_Gretchen is still out there. Sweetwater too. You swore you would not make my mistakes. Get rid of them._

_I am, I'm just avoiding doing it personally. I'll stay away from any violence if possible._

…_Oh, wait, you could get a tuxedo! Of course, trench coats are always good, aheheh…_

"For someone who went to so much effort to take the town, you're doing little," spat Isabella, walking out into the open, clothes stained with red paint.

Lucy leisurely rolled back, lying on the concrete, tilting her head far back enough to loo her enslaved critic in the eye. Isabella was much less openly hostile now, but her eyes bled malice at every moment. Lucy wondered if the other girl could be ordered into joyful obedience.

"Why are you covered in paint?" Lucy asked.

Isabella ground her teeth, fists balled and face beet red with barely contained fury.

"You. Told. Me. To paint. The white roses. Red."

"How did that go?" Lucy asked sweetly, rolling onto her front.

"As well as you'd expect," said Isabella.

"What do you think Mr Flynn?" Lucy called. "Did Isabella do a good job painting the roses red?"

Phineas sat in the centre of the concrete yard. Upon hearing his name, his mouth moved but no sound came out. He reluctantly rose from his place, dark rings visible under his eyes. He knew he had a chance. He could push Ferrea off the building before Isabella was forced to protect her master. It was the sheer magnitude of such an action that had prevented him so far.

He could hear Phineastein screaming as he advanced.

Lucy frowned. "Now this is curious. I thought you the intellectual type Mr Flynn. After all, you talked my father into suicide."

Phineas moved towards her, his eyes staring as if straight through her. Fenris growled at him, hackles raised. Phineas felt a pounding sensation in his head that had been gone for at least a year, and suddenly the world seemed painfully bright. He lurched forward, thoughts screaming all at once – he had to kill her, protect everyone.

He fell to the ground with the tears already flowing. He choked and twitched, hating himself more than ever. He heard Lucy approach and kneel down beside him. He felt his chin gently lifted to make eye contact with the girl he hated more than anyone, other than himself.

"What did my father do to you…" Lucy whispered, more to herself than to Phineas or Isabella. "You used to be so… Mr Flynn, we used to have the two minute hate about you. I read about your inventions and their atrocity nearly every day, I was there when you broke into Smile Away itself! And yet…"

"Kill me," said Phineas.

Lucy recoiled as if burned, perhaps realising how uncomfortably close she had been to another person. Someone like her.

"I regret not conditioning you like the others…" she murmured, eyes far away. "I feel sick."

* * *

"_Hate," _the computerised voice was droning unhelpfully. _"Let me tell you how much I have come to hate you over the past minute."_

"I hate you too AM, now let me in!" Adyson snapped, pressing the switch over and over again.

The sound of engines still circled the garage, providing the occasional glimpse of a mechanised arm or leg as the twins continued their stakeout. Gretchen pressed her glasses to her nose, and took a deep breath. Irving sighed, and looked at her, making a feeble attempt at conversation.

"I can't put pressure on my glasses like that. Nosebleeds, you know?"

"Fascinating," said Gretchen. "When I am being torn apart by Hibernian eunuchs, I shall keep my spirits high by remembering your acerbic wit."

"Sorry," sniffed Irving. "I mean, I just thought you brought me along this whole time for some reason. You two are the only people I hang out with."

Gretchen found herself close to punching the boy as her frustration and secret fear of the situation built up.

"You idiotic… wait. Pressure. Irving you're a… well, I can't say genius, but you have your uses apparently."

"Good!" cried Adyson. "Now someone explain this to me!"

"No time. Hurm. Irving, see those car keys? Take them, start the car. I'm sure you can figure out how to reverse, but maybe I'm giving you too much credit. Adyson, stand clear."

Irving muttered something under his breath, but followed the orders anyway, starting Linda Flynn's car in a matter of seconds. Time was of the essence. He leaned out of the window, nervously shifting into reverse, or at least, what he hoped was reverse. Gretchen pulled Adyson to the side as the car rolled ever-so-slowly backwards, crushing a paint can and nearly skidding off to the side thanks to Irving's complete lack of hand-eye co-ordination.

"Ferb's little elevator is activated by switch," theorised Gretchen. "But I would be surprised if it took more weight than three people."

"American people though," said Irving from the driver's seat, voice cracking.

"Yes, so three small bears. Still, the car should weigh down enough to send the elevator down, or maybe just break it outright."

The car rolled backwards as slow as ever – Irving felt sweat drip down his face, and wondered why the garage seemed so long. There came a whoosh of engines and a loud thump as the twins landed outside the garage door.

"Wake up, dykes!" 27 shouted. "Time to die!"

A piston-powered fist punched through the metal door with little effort, the mechanised hand turning to grasp the loose metal of the door and pulling it apart like wrapping paper. A long strip of the door came away, but at that moment the car rolled onto the plate of ground that signalled the entrance to Ferb's lab.

Time seemed to stand still for Gretchen – she stared at the back wheel for almost an eternity, panic set poised to jump in her chest. Irving made eye-contact, smiling nervously. Adyson as ever, did not seem to grasp the desperation of her two companions, and was intently watching the twins rip through the last remaining defence.

A loud crack was heard throughout the neighbourhood, and slowly, the car began to sink down with the elevator. Panicking briefly, Irving managed to get the car into gear and drive it out of the hole. Gretchen leapt down after the elevator without a moments hesitation, just as the powered suit of armour crashed through the door. Adyson looked down, and then back at Irving.

"Hurry up specs!"

Irving laughed a little sadly. He knew the twins would be in straight after them.

"Right behind you!" he shouted, and feigned opening the driver's door.

Satisfied, Adyson jumped down after Gretchen, heading into the blackness. She fell along the slanted elevator shaft, skinning her knees and tumbling until she hit the concrete lift, letting out a cry of pain. Gretchen helped her to her feet. Adyson glanced up at the tiny window of light visible far above.

"Irving's coming now," she said, realising that something was wrong.

"Did you see him leave the car?"

Adyson did not reply.

"Idiot!" snapped Gretchen. "I'll kill him. Can't this thing go any faster?"

There was a shimmer of light, and Adyson nearly jumped from the elevator in surprise. The projected image flickered for a moment, before Ferb stood beside them, dressed in a lab coat and looking completely humourless.

"_Signals show that I am not present. Adyson and guest, this may mean that I am either hitting on someone or more likely given our luck, dead. In that case, you will receive brief training."_

"Skip the training, let's smash stuff!"

"At this point in time, training would be illogical. Irving requires assistance."

The hologram ignored both girls as the elevator reached the dark lab. Something huge and terrible loomed overhead, but in the dark, Gretchen could barely make out anything other than a rough humanoid shape.

"_You will need this plugsuit," _said 'Ferb', gesturing to an outfit hanging on the nearby wall.

Adyson examined the suit for a moment. "Ferb, does this serve any purpose other than being skin-tight?"

If it were possible for a hologram to look sheepish, this one managed it expertly, to a terrifyingly precise level. The fake Ferb coughed nervously.

"_Very well, you may proceed in your own clothes. Lights."_

Gretchen jumped back in terror as the industrial lights came to life with the sound that vibrated the very ground. She was looking at… She knew she should be used to such creations by now, but it she contained enough arbitrary scepticism to doubt that she was really looking at it.

Adyson's project was humanoid in shape, crouched, and at least sixty feet in height. The lighting reflected painfully off of the red metal that made up the majority of the structure, but it was the huge head that had startled Gretchen so badly. It loomed towards her, a 'face' that was pure machinery, round emerald covered lights substituting for eyes on a jigsaw piece of a humanoid head. Fins rose from the creature's (for although Gretchen knew it to be machinery, she could not help think but of the monster as alive) shoulders, creating an illusion of greater height.

"_Behold the Adyson Sweetwater project, the __THOR Mark 2. Marks 0 and 1 unfortunately went the way of Tunguska."_

"This is the greatest thing I have ever seen!" squeaked Adyson, darting towards the machine and leaping onto the head in one bound. "I will now lay waste to the surface dwellers!"

"I…" Gretchen, for once, could not think of a smart remark, or even an intelligible remark. "Meep."

A great crash sounded from high up. Gretchen turned round, fear grasping her again, one that she had forgotten.

"Irving's still out there!"

Adyson grinned madly, eyes completely devoid of anything other than a love for destruction.

"Let's go get him! I'll carry you up in the hands, you can get to him when we reach the surface."

And that was how Gretchen found herself in the utterly terrifying grip of a titanic robot as it began to smash upwards through the laboratory in order to confront a flying powered exoskeleton, at which point she realised her life had lost any trace of normalcy or laws of nature.

* * *

"Hey, Eight," said 27, wiping any trace of rubble from the suit. "Look at this. Not quite a worthy opponent, but kid's got balls."

"From the sound of it," Irving said, moving his hands out of sight, "You don't."

27 growled with rage, ready to move forward, when the car accelerated suddenly, pushing into the exoskeleton's chest with a metallic clang. Caught entirely by surprise, 27 panicked and activated the suit's grapples, which shot out and hooked onto the car, linking the enemies. Equally surprised, 28 had activated the suit's launch into flight.

Joined closely to the car, the Beak suit shot up into the air, crashing through the garage roof. Irving covered his face and fell into the backseat of the now horizontal car.

"Stabilise, you eejit!" 27 snapped, met with scared protests from his brother.

"I flew that once before," said Irving, eerily calm and unaware if the twins were listening. "But I think this is better. I know they're safe."

The force of the wind met with the engines, rising into the loudest roar Irving had ever heard. Under the pressure of the powerful grapples, the car began to tear, windows cracking so that the wind barraged Irving's face. 27 was screaming at his brother incoherently now, the engines of the exoskeleton still running.

The almost serene chaos Irving was experiencing was not to last. He knew this and breathed out calmly, but his hands were shaking.

27 released the grapples suddenly, having realised how to put his brother at ease. Irving hung in the air for a moment, holding onto the front seat as his feet dangled helplessly. He smirked as he descended. He wondered how high up they were.

"I wonder if Gretchen ever understood why I put up with all her shit," he said.

The car plummeted downwards and he closed his eyes.

A searing pain cut through his stomach and he roared with pain. He screamed as he was pulled through the windshield, hearing the car crash to earth far below. He swung helplessly, blood running to his mouth. Struggling, he raised his head. One of the power suit's bladed grappled had shot through his stomach, suspending him from a steel cord. Just the act of looking at it intensified the pain.

The twins descended slowly, laying Irving on the ground gently at such a low speed. They touched the ground silently.

"Got him," said 27.

"He's still alive. Take him to Lucy, get him treatment."

The grappled pulled out swiftly, the claws retracting, a stream of blood following. Irving groaned amid a splutter of blood. He heard the exoskeleton approach, white boots entering his increasingly blurred vision.

"There is no shame in this," said 27. "I'm proud to have met you. That was the stupidest, yet bravest thing I've ever seen. And I don't even know your name."

Irving could hear 28 begin to cry helplessly from within the suit, and grinned, coughing up blood.

"I have… nothing to say… to either of you. Go… to hell."

27 sighed, and the suit moved away from Irving's collapsed form, moving back to the garage. A curious rumbling was beginning to become audible.

"Hey, 28, pull yourself together. The hell is that?"

"We should say some sort of prayer," choked 28. He had never seen someone his own age hurt like that.

"Stuff that shit," snapped 27. "Dead is dead."

The white exoskeleton marched into the garage. The rumbling intensified. The walls began to shake slightly.

"What is that?" 27 wondered irritably, the adrenaline beginning to wear off.

"ME." Came the amplified voice of Adyson, and she crashed up from underneath the twins.

The garage completely disappeared in an eruption of concrete, upturned piping and circuitry, the huge head of the THOR-2 obliterating the floor completely and tearing the roof from the building merely by rising up from its crouched position.

"JAYSIS!" screamed the twins simultaneously, 28 abandoning his fear of blasphemy for one of Adyson.

One giant hand reached gently towards the ground and a dishevelled Gretchen detached herself from the fingers, running in search of Irving.

"Yes!" 27 yelled triumphantly. "This would be the best way to do it!"

The THOR-2 began rising, finally taking note of the tiny little power suit hovering before it.

"ASSUMING DIRECT CONTROL," Adyson boomed, cackling like a lunatic.

"I love my job," said 27, and fired the grappling hooks.

The steel hooks barely scratched the surface of Adyson's armour plating, put it was enough of a hold for 27 to pull himself toward what could only be described as mechanised death. He lashed out, snarling with both excitement and simple feral savagery.

Adyson's vision momentarily obscured, she swore and stumbled backwards, before shrieking and grasping her real eye in pain.

"Why would you make the pain transferrable to me? Why would you do something like that?"

The Ferb hologram shrugged unhelpfully. As her vision cleared, Adyson caught herself before she hit the ground and launched back up with speed and ferocity, letting out a stream of catchphrases and quips that went by too fast for 27 to catch any of them. With one massive swipe, the previously powerful exoskeleton was clenched in the titan's grasp. 27 fired the grapples, but in the current trap, they proved completely useless. He smiled.

"This would be a good way to go. After all, who mourns a eunuch?"

The crushing sensation disappeared however, as Adyson changed her mind, swinging the mechanical arm skywards before tossing downwards. The twins' powered armour was flung from the death grip, hurtling towards the ground at high speed. The shields took the vast majority of the damage, but the suit skidded along the road anyway, bits of armour plating flying from the outer shell and churning up concrete and tarmac alike.

"Back in!" 27 snarled, sitting the suit back up.

"No," said 28, and the suit's flight engines started back up. "They have to mourn, and I have to live."

"You idiot, we have to, it's perfect!" 27 screamed, but the suit was already airborne, firing through the sky towards the aerial Smile Away.

"SO SAYS ADYSON. SO SAYS THE GOD OF GIANT ROBOT WARFARE."

Adyson paused in her boasting. She could hear someone yelling her name frantically. Worried, she set the machine down to its default crouch, and opened the pilot's hatch, leaping down from a height of nearly eight feet without a second thought.

Her heart sank almost immediately.

Gretchen was dragging Irving towards the cover of the Flynn-Fletcher house, reaching the porch. Adyson had never heard the other girl sound so lost.

"You stupid, unthinking…" Gretchen blurted, voice cracking with a sob.

Irving gazed up through half-lidded eyes, barely breathing. His glasses were completely shattered and useless, hanging from one ear. Adyson tried her hardest to avert her eyes from the boy's torn stomach, did her best to ignore the trails of blood leaking from her friend's broken body.

Irving couched gently, a distressed gasp for air. He turned his eyes to Gretchen, and then back at Adyson again. His mouth cracked into what may have been an attempt at a smile. Broken arms twitched in vain, but Gretchen held his hand instantly, understanding, and Adyson followed suit.

Both girls were too shocked to speak, both looked around frantically for some miraculous saviour, but nothing came. Irving lay on the steps of the Flynn-Fletcher house, failing to speak and gasping out in pain. His lips moved to form words, but the girls could not hear or understand.

One thing went through his mind as his vision disappeared and his consciousness receded forever.

_I think this is better. I know they're safe._

* * *

**I know, you'll hate me for this, even moreso than Pinky. I'm sorry, but it happened. Irving was fun to write everytime he appeared, a neurotic little geek that ultimately turned out to be one of the few outright heroes in this entire series. That heroism is also why he suffered so much, because Danville really is a crapsack world now. I told you that things would go downhill - even giant robots don't lighten the mood (though, if you've seen Neon Genesis Evangelion, you'll know they make the mood even more depressing). See you next time.**


	12. On Eagle's Wings

**Hello again, and welcome to October, the greatest month of the year! Spot the Monty Python reference somewhere in the chapter.**

**12 - On Eagle's Wings**

_**My mother has killed me/ My father is eating me/ My brothers and sister sit under the table, picking up my bones/ They will bury them under the cold marble stones...**_

* * *

Heinz Doofenshmirtz sat at the long table, constantly asking his daughter if she was okay. Vanessa nodded, mildly annoyed. Aside from the whole 'captured-and-enslaved' deal, they were being fairly well treated. The table took up the length of the whole room, which had been refurbished into a luxurious dining room, complete with a roaring fireplace that Fenris curled up in front of, snoring.

Heinz knew that the building had once been Smile Away's cafeteria though. Despite the redecoration, unfinished strips of wall revealed a grey interior, still bearing worn posters of the lunch menu, which seemingly consisted of porridge and more porridge. Looking down the table Heinz vaguely recognised a few people – the red-haired, shivering boy was the famous Phineas Flynn, and his brother Ferb behind him, as well as Candace. The other two boys and girl he did not recognise, but the teal platypus clutched by Phineas looked oddly familiar.

The great doors opened, now wooden and warm looking, but no less sinister than the steel ones they had replaced. Lucy Ferrea strolled through; wearing what looked suspiciously like a red curtain. She jumped into her chair at the head of the long table, beaming.

"So, is everyone comfortable? I thought we might have lunch."

Many questions, insults and demands went through Heinz' head, but the one that came out was, "Ooh, what's for lunch?"

Lucy seemed delighted that someone had answered her properly for once.

"It seems odd, but it's going to be pasta. I don't eat meat, but I guessed that everyone likes pasta, don't they Fenris?"

As if in response, the sleeping dog raised his tail. That corner of the room began to smell quite badly. Lucy, eyes lighting up with good humour, reclined. She gestured to the red curtain that cloaked her.

"Before we begin, this is the Flappy Red Cape. It's red and flaps in the wind, but bears no similarities to the Fluffy Pink Sippers."

When the meal eventually came, the guests ate hungrily in complete silence, most of them extremely bewildered by the situation. Heinz was glad that someone understood proper evil overlord conduct however, and was surprisingly pleased with his lunch. He would have preferred to be the overlord of course, but his daughter was safe, so all was not lost. He also thought he had a bit of a dirty fork, but thanks to a horrifying back-story, had learned never to bring this up.

"You eat like a pig," said the girl in the pink dress, who Heinz thought was called Isabella.

Ferrea continued to eat, shrugging. "You didn't have a problem when I was staying with you."

"It would have been rude then, but since you turned out to be a raving lunatic, I thought I'd bring it up."

Lucy whistled over Fenris, who wagged his tail happily as he jumped onto the table and ate from her bowl, splattering sauce everywhere. Ferrea tilted her head at Isabella, chuckling and waiting for a reaction. When none came, the red-head looked fairly hurt.

"What's wrong Isabella? You're always so hostile now… You were fine before."

Isabella's face contorted in a bizarre mixture of incredulous outrage and something like pity.

"Do I really have to spell it out?"

"Spell what out?"

"We're not friends, you idiot."

Fenris looked up, echoing his owner's surprise. The other guests at the table kept their eyes down, taking no sides other than the occasional mutter of support for the Fireside Girl chief.

"We're not?" Ferrea squeaked, fidgeting with her frozen right hand.

"Of course no… What the…"

A loud crash rent the air, the sound of concrete being crunched and churned into the air by force of impact. Everyone jumped up, eyeing the door as if it might suddenly cave in without warning. Soon, shouting became evident, one of the parties involved much louder than the other. The voices came closer, before cutting off with a clatter just outside the door.

Lucy marched swiftly towards the door, signalled for Ferb to follow and slammed the door behind them.

"She's left us" cried Isabella excitedly. "Phineas, you can get us out of this! You can make anything from anything!"

"There's nothing to be gained from living in the past Victor," mumbled Phineas.

* * *

28 covered his face as he hit the cold floor, twisting instantly to avoid major injury. His brother's fists rained down, rendering his attempts at defence utterly useless. A foot collided sharply with his ribs, and as he cried out, 27 punched him in the side of the head, knocking him against the wall. Weakly, 28 held his hand up, but 27 smacked it away with a backhand and kicked his twin directly in the face. A mixture of blood and tears began to pool on the floor.

"You fucking… faggot!" 27 snarled, but there was a hoarse edge to his voice that suggested he too was near tears. "All I've ever done, was look after you! They just picked you to begin with! They were going to castrate and experiment on you alone, but I volunteered so you wouldn't be scared! And now…"

Three more kicks landed in quick succession, but 28 had ceased trying to resist in any way. The drumming of a sprinter echoed down the hallway, and 27 turned just as Ferb swung his fist. Catching it with little effort, the Irish boy grinned and threw Ferb to the floor, landing harshly on top of him and twisting Ferb's arm behind his back.

"Seven, leave him," groaned 28, shakily getting to his feet.

"Everyone comes to your protection, don't they," 27 snapped, putting more pressure on Ferb's arm. Ferb remained silent, save for the odd sharp breath. "Even rich suburban kids who think because they saw someone get shot, they know about the ugly side of life." He slammed Ferb's head off the floor. "Well guess what Ferb? Instead of helping him, why don't you HELP! YOUR! FUCKING! SELF!"

27 felt himself swiped from the other boy with one hand, and stumbled angrily, before freezing. Ferrea was staring directly at him, expression unreadable. She helped the bruised and battered Ferb to his feet before approaching 28.

"Are you okay Eight? Come on, up you get."

"It's my fault," 28 mumbled, face nearly unrecognisable due to the fast bruising. "I started it."

Ferrea stroked her chin, looking rather annoyed.

"Someone is going to explain the situation to me. Now."

"We found them where you said they'd be, burst in, but they ran to the garage," said 27. "One of them, the boy, tried to fight back when the other two went underground."

Ferb listened with increasing dread, with the vague hope that Adyson had managed to save Irving before the twins had reached him. That hope was gone in an instant when 27 finished his next sentence.

"So we speared the stupid bastard, and Eight starts getting all tearful about it, the poof, and saying we should say prayers and stuff. And then this big shitting robot just came out of nowhere…"

"What?" said Ferrea. "A…defecating robot?"

"No, you… It was a big robot, 'shitting' was just an expression."

28 coughed up something that was between mucus and blood.

"It's true," he said. "It was huge, would have, ah, killed us easily."

"That was the point you idiot!" snarled his brother, but Ferrea cut him off with a raised hand.

"So, what you are saying is, you killed one of them, and the other two are likely angry and alive, piloting a weapon of mass destruction?"

"Well, when you put it like that…"

Ferrea twitched suddenly, reaching for the Rapture unit on her neck.

"Yes?"

"_There's something coming Miss! Jesus, it's huge!"_

"Okay, stay calm," she said, adding in a sinister tone, "I'll get rid of it."

28 shivered slightly, looking desperate. He did not want to clamber back into the exoskeleton, but he knew now that he would have little choice. They should have confronted it earlier. Now he thought he would die either way. Ferrea paced urgently from wall to wall, and 28 had never seen her more distressed, except for some forgotten moments back when they had still been under Smile Away's control.

"How was I meant to plan for this?" she said quietly. "This is your fault Mr Fletcher, I can tell your handiwork already. 27, 28, get ready. You'll have to deal with those two whether you like it or not. Eight, I know you don't want to hurt anyone, but you have to listen to me on this one. Apologise to each other and get going."

28 stepped forward, offering his hand.

"I'm sorry Seven, you know I'm a coward, I didn't…"

"Nah, it's fine, I shouldn't have exploded like that," his brother said, evidently cheered by the prospect of a re-match. "I… I just wanted to go out memorably; I don't mean to drag you down with me. I am proud of you, whatever I might say."

Ferrea's glare forced both twins to cut themselves short and hurry out for battle, hoping that she was not too angry. When they had gone, Ferrea looked at Ferb curiously, unsure what to make of the expression on his face.

"Ah… The boy was a friend of yours? I am sorry Mr Fletcher, but they didn't leave me much choice."

"I hope Adyson rips you apart."

"Hmm, I think a lot of people do. Still, I can't please everyone. Well, yet. Get back to work, now that I think of it."

Ferb departed, and Ferrea sank against the wall, instinctively reaching out for Fenris, who hopped into her arms almost instantly. She ran her hands through the thick coat, feeling a horrible falling sensation in her stomach. She knew that she could watch the ensuing fight, but decided against it. Whether the girls won, or the twins won, Lucy Ferrea was going to stay right there until it was over, accepting of either.

"Cogito ergo sum," she said emotionlessly. "I think, therefore I am. Well, soon none of you will think, so we have solidarity."

* * *

"Are we going to kill them?" Adyson asked as the THOR-2 powered up.

Gretchen crouched awkwardly in the cockpit, unable to sit at all, jammed to the side of the pilot's seat. Her voice was hoarse, and cracking.

"Kill them if you want," said Gretchen. "It's what I would do. But it's Ferrea we should go for, and finish this."

"Are you going to kill her then?"

"No," said Gretchen. "I'm going to cripple her. I'm going to snap her spindly little limbs and her spine and I'm going to leave her a vegetable for the rest of her life, aware of everything around her. She set those twins off the leash, so she's ultimately responsible."

Adyson wiped her eyes, sighing deeply. They had laid Irving back in the Flynn-Fletcher house and covered him with a sheet. She had wanted to do something more respectful, but there had not been the time or opportunity. They would have to tell his mother and brother when it was all over.

"I never thought it'd be him," Adyson said.

Gretchen looked away and said nothing.

"You liked him, didn't you?"

"Just pilot the machine," Gretchen said, cleaning her glasses with a great deal of force. "For once in your life, shut up."

Adyson turned her concentration back to the controls, feeling the joy of absolute power as the titan rose in height, glinting dangerously in the midday sun. One step, although it took them to the other side of the road, seemed to cover only an inch. Smile Away hovered over the centre of town, close, but still far higher than the THOR-2 could reach. Adyson knew that she would have to make the robot jump, as ridiculous and impossible as it sounded. As she took another vast step, she watched the pavement crack and fissure until the glass in a nearby telephone box smashed under the pressure. Car alarms began to ring in her ear and she forgot all about the situation other than the need to destroy Smile Away completely.

"Got a bearing on Smile Away," she said calmly. "Something else is showing up though."

"Twins," Gretchen acknowledged venomously.

The flare of jet engines flashed in the distance, and a white trail arced across the sky as the exoskeleton rocketed towards the attackers.

"Hold onto something," said Adyson.

"Hold on to what?" Gretchen replied, deadpan.

"Does this thing have any guns?" Adyson asked.

The hologram of Ferb shimmered into life, already looking apologetic.

"_Sorry, but I have a code against giving Americans guns. I know you're well-intentioned, but you'd likely end up shooting me accidentally."_

"Thanks. Big help as always."

"I'm going to have words with Fletcher when this is over," Gretchen said, but the fear in her voice detracted from the image she was trying to give.

"Brace!" Adyson yelled suddenly.

The colossal suit of armour shook dreadfully as the twins grabbed hold of the head, bringing mechanised legs swinging down. White metal punched through red, cleaving huge holes on the head of the THOR-2. Adyson shrieked, grabbing hold of her head, before pushing forward with her free arm.

The swing of the enormous arm swiped the exoskeleton from the surface, sending the twins back into the air again. Recovering almost instantly, the twins darted back like a hummingbird, weaving from a second grasp that would have crushed them in seconds. The suit groaned as something detached from the leg, to be swept up by the arms and held menacingly.

"What's that in its arms?" Gretchen said, panicking.

"Uh, this is your captain speaking," said Adyson, digging her machine's feet into the ground for fortitude. "If you look to your left, you'll see what we in the business call RPG! Well, it doesn't look like an RPG, but it's catchier."

The twins fired - the smoke seeming to come before the launch of the anti-tank missile, which streaked directly towards the chest area of the THOR-2. The impact and explosion rocked Adyson in her seat, also shaking Gretchen in her place so that she smacked her head numerous times. The colossus teetered slightly for a moment, before falling backwards with a long groan of re-shaping metals.

Adyson grimaced as they crushed the cars and trucks on the road below them, feeling every inch of the pain shoot through her back. She swore in along stream before pushing determinedly back, the machine weakly responding to her demands. A clear gap was visible in the chest plating, important-looking fluids dripping from the cracked hole, exposed gears and wiring struggling to continue.

"It's invincible!" 28 cried helplessly, upon seeing Adyson rise to her feet.

"Nah, look," said 27, "she can barely stand. We're out of tank missiles though, so she might as well be."

"I WAS EXPECTING SOMETHING A LITTLE MORE IMPRESSIVE," Adyson boomed from the machine. "NO MORE FANCY TRICKS, STARK?"

"You're spirited, I'll give you that!" 27 shouted. "I'd have quite liked to have met you before all this!"

"SOME OTHER TIME…" said Adyson, the impressive voice failing as the speakers began to crack.

The THOR-2 suddenly lurched forwards, one immense foot crashing through the roof of a house as it did. The attempted grab at the twins failed, but the huge arm caught them a glancing blow, knocking them from the sky. Yelling instructions to one another, the panicking Irish boys spiralled downwards, swooping up suddenly just before they hit the ground headfirst. The feet, too low to have missed entirely, churned through the concrete before they were pulled up. 28 screamed in pain the whole way.

As they shot back up into the sky, Adyson cracked the mechanical arm against the house, rubble flying at the twins as airborne missiles. Shielding themselves and dodging in-between the barrage, they were unable to avoid Adyson's second swipe, which launched them back towards Smile Away, where they crashed into the landing deck with a terrifyingly loud crack.

27 sat the suit up, and waited until his brother found the strength to raise the armour back onto its feet. The height gave them an excellent view of the attackers.

"Eight, follow my lead. Fire us up the way."

28 obliged, and the powered exoskeleton launched upwards, pausing to hover once they were high above even Smile Away.

"What now?"

"You're gonna have to trust me on this, okay? Launch us at them."

"What? That's insane!"

"Just trust me okay?"

28 found himself nearly hyperventilating, trying to see where his brother was trying to go with this suicidal decision.

"We barely cut the armour last time!"

27 laughed. "I know how to get an extra boost. Besides, they're weakened. Do it."

28 swallowed and forced all his weight into powering the engines. The exoskeleton roared and fired straight like the tank missile before it, jetting towards the THOR-2 with extreme speed. 27's voice came through on the communicators, otherwise inaudible due to the noise.

"Hey, Eight? You look after yourself, okay?"

"What do you mean, I… No!" 28 yelled, desperately screaming through the microphone. "Don't do this, I need you to look after me!"

"Ha, I don't see it myself. After all, you were the one who moved on. I'll… I'll see you again someday, if you're right. Sorry about earlier."

There was a clunking sound, barely audible over the wind and engines, but to 28 it seemed like the loudest noise he had ever heard. With a quick snap, the top half of the exoskeleton activated its ejection from the rest of the suit. 28 immediately slammed on the brakes, but it was too late – although he was safe, his parachute deploying and blowing him backwards, 27's half sped onward, even faster, the machine's demand to launch parachute ignored.

"Crap," said Adyson in the pilot's seat, turning to see the thing launching towards them.

"Hey," said 27 to himself, closing his eyes, "who mourns a eunuch, right? No one. Who remembers this eunuch? You will."

What remained of the exoskeleton punched straight through the already gaping hole in the chest, the leaking fuel combing with the already fiery state of the powered armour. Adyson screamed and tumbled back before the chest area was completely obliterated in a massive explosion, ripping the THOR-2 apart from the inside.

"EJECT!" screamed Gretchen.

"Crap," groaned Adyson. "I, like so many other fictional gay characters, am going to die before the story ends… Who the hell am I kidding, of course I'll eject."

The pilot's capsule shot from the crumbling robot, the last remnant of Ferb's wonderful project. Countless more explosions sounded off, but Adyson and Gretchen were blind in the tiny flying space. Falling and knocking against one another, they suddenly grabbed hold of each other, embracing the only other person in the world at that moment, as their pod disappeared from sight.

28's section was blown sideways by the explosion, his parachute damaged just before he touched the ground. The legs of the suit clanged to the pavement and he rolled out, couching and wiping dust from his eyes in the rubble-filled aftermath. Parts of the THOR-2 rained down across Danville, but he was safe where he stood. He looked up to the sky and smiled.

"You did it Seven," he said sadly. "What am I going to do now?"

The iron cracked into the back of his skull, sending him sprawling and unconscious back onto the pavement. The attacker fixed his clothes that had shaken loose in the assault, and fixed the bandages around his face.

"I…have a suggestion," growled Mr Fox.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Wow, it feels weird to have updated on time for once, what's happened to me? Anyway, who was expecting Fox? I know you knew he'd be coming back, but I wonder if the creepy Hansel and Gretel rhyme at the start tipped you off. The usual Mr Fox rhyme (from Tempus Fugit and ch7) is the skipping one from the film M. But if you want something that really defines Fox, go and look up 'The Devil Is In The Details' from the Hanna soundtrack. See you next time.**


	13. Dear Boss

**Hello, I apologise for my lateness, and I'll apologise in advamce, because next week's might be late too. Also, this chapter is disturbing, so you know, reader discretion and such...**

**13 - Dear Boss**

_**Lady Mary asked Mr. Fox where they should live, and he described to her his castle, and where it was; but, strange to say, did not ask her, or her brothers to come and see it.**_

* * *

"_Doctor? Doctor Fox, are you ready to begin?"_

Fox blinked and looked up in surprise. The medical students were looking down at him intently from their rows. Even his colleagues in the university were there, waiting to see his latest. He had almost forgotten they were there. And she was there, in the front row, smiling at him. Everything was perfect.

"_I'm now making my primary incision at the windpipe," _Fox began, bringing his scalpel down. _"I always like to begin with a prayer, if none of you object."_

The students murmured their agreements. Somewhere, something dripped to a cold floor. Not here. They were in the university.

"_Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus."_

She closed her eyes as she smiled, showing her polite modesty at being honoured in such a fashion. But he had to honour her - that was how things worked. She understood. She always understood. If only he could stop that infernal dripping noise! He finished the prayer and sliced, perhaps too quickly, from left to right.

"_As you can see, the slitting of the throat purifies the body. Removes the diseases, understand. This way, we can remove the uterus…"_

Dripping! It would not stop dripping and it was making him lose his concentration! He had made a mess of the throat and the students were looking at him strangely!

"_Quiet! No moving at the back! It has to be removed carefully, or else it will rip. Needs to be preserved. Take other things. Kidneys, liver."_

She stood up in the front row, sensing that something was wrong. She glided through the seats and the barrier, approaching his autopsy table silently. No one in the crowd noticed her presence.

"_Harlan," _she sighed. _"It's only the water. Just the drip of water. You need to continue, Harlan. You need to purge their sort from the earth."_

"_This one wasn't even a whore. Regular woman, standing about. Couldn't do anything because of the thing on her neck."_

She laughed, a tinkling sound that almost drowned out the constant drip of water. The crowd in the seats were beginning to blur intensely.

"_Harlan, not all of them are obvious. You need to purge them all, for they are sinful."_

"_Like…"_

"_Yes, like her. You have to cure her, she has alluded you twice now."_

"_Yes. The Christ-killer. The half-bred Jew. I will wipe her disease from your sight, I will…"_

The dripping would not stop! He lashed out in anger and she disappeared in a swipe of his hand. The body tumbled from its position, opening across the cold floor. The university room vanished in an instant, leaving the dark damp room with the leaking ceiling. The incessant dripping seemed slower now that he could witness it in person, less aggravating. He had overreacted, perhaps. He still needed to find the girl.

"Oh, Peggy Gordon," sang a frightened voice, echoing in the dark. "You are my darling. Come sit you down, upon my knee…"

Fox grinned, and then winced. As he always did during her visits, he had forgotten about his injuries – he could not talk properly when she was absent. The bullet wound and fractured jaw had begun to fester, and a green infection was beginning to rot at his face with a burning intensity. The bandages sagged from and stuck to the wound in equal measure, damp with blood and saliva. He growled slightly, ad stalked from the room, following the sound of the singing.

Careful not to slip on the slanting surfaces, he turned several corners in pitch-black, completely at ease. He grasped at the door and unlocked it despite his lack of sight. The people moved in the dark, shivering and moaning. He pushed his way through them, knowing that they would not try to escape. In the dark, his fingers closed around the boy's throat cutting off the singing.

28 made a gasp for air as he was hoisted towards his captor. He could feel sharp breathing on his face, sense the pulsing wreckage of a face looming near his own. He trembled and forced himself still in the grasp.

"We can talk about this…" 28 gasped. "Whatever problems…you have with me, let these people go…"

"Talk," said Fox, sending blood and spittle onto the boy's face. "You talk. She listens."

28 fell to the floor, slipping before he could find his feet. The damp stone cracked against his cheek and tears stung his eyes. The only light in the room was the low blinking lights of the Rapture units. Fox pulled one of the women down to 28's height. The man knelt down, holding the boy with one hand and pinning the young woman to the floor with his boot. A scalpel slid out from the left sleeve.

"Don't do this," pleaded 28. "She's done nothing wrong, I have, just me, if you take me instead and let her-!"

The scalpel carved through the darkness once, its shine in the black disappearing as blood tainted the steel.

"You talk," said Mr Fox, pausing to cough out a chewed mess of greenish decaying flesh. "She listens."

* * *

The rain hammered against the windows of Smile Away, winds crashing through any doors that had been left open. That was the worst part, in Isabella's opinion – when the wind managed to invade the building rushing through it and her, freezing her limbs as she skirted through the corridors. It had been two days since Adyson and Gretchen had attacked and 27 had died, and the fact that Ferrea had not produced any other bodies was the only thing that kept Isabella going.

They had discovered something interesting with the Rapture network that had set Lucy's plans back slightly – when ordered to do something with no restriction, people would place this order above everything, including eating and drinking. Ferb had nearly starved working on the project, and was now working much more slowly, with Ferrea taking care to make sure he was healthy. The strangest case was with the civilians left below – ordered to carry out their daily routines, but blocked by the rubble and wreckage from Adyson's attack, the controlled masses would stand still, unable to do anything.

Isabella hurried towards the elevator, clutching the cardboard box to her chest as some sort of insulation. The doors opened, and Isabella had to place the box of machinery down quickly, jabbing at the floor numbers to get away from the wind.

"Wait up!"

Isabella moved desperately, pressing the buttons even faster in the hope that the elevator would move before Ferrea reached it. Much to her dismay, the redhead and her ever-present dog darted in just as the doors closed. Ferrea was reading an incredibly dull-looking book, smiling lazily at Isabella over the pages. Lucy's frozen hand made reading rather awkward-looking – she had precariously balanced the spine on her scarred palm and was carefully turning pages with her left.

The elevator ride was extremely long and uncomfortable for Isabella, but Ferrea turned pages quite happily.

"Have you ever heard of Rosa Luxemburg?" Lucy said.

"No."

An eyebrow was raised, but Lucy did not elaborate further, deciding to continue reading in silence. The elevator shook slightly, a result of their airborne state.

"What about her?" Isabella snapped eventually.

"Never mind," said Ferrea, turning another page.

"You were about to go into a big lecture, so just do it," Isabella said, watching the numbers count down on the display.

"Nope, you obviously don't care very much."

"You're insufferable. Just tell me!"

"Nah," said Ferrea. "When I think about it, you'd probably not appreciate it."

Isabella folded her arms and glowered at Ferrea in silence until the doors mercifully opened. Some deity evidently wished to torment Isabella further however, because Ferrea got off at the same floor.

There was a slight hum from the Rapture network central computer, the massive screen illuminating the entire room. Ferb and Doofenshmirtz looked up briefly, nodded their acknowledgement and went back to work on a dome-like structure.

"Recognise that?" Ferrea said, pointing at the pod.

Isabella placed the machinery beside Ferb's tools, answering sharply. "Phineas' VR machine."

"I thought you would. What was it like, being trapped in there by Rains? I guess you loved seeing Phineas come to your rescue, fuelling your delusions one last time."

"Shut up. Now."

Ferrea sat on a nearby workbench and Fenris leapt up to join her. The Labrador curled himself into the flowing red cape, groaning loudly and rolling onto his belly. Automatically, his owner scratched him, keeping an eye on Isabella at the same time.

"You know Isabella, you're quite grumpy. I'll cheer you up. You know what cheers me up? Toasty socks."

Isabella, despite experience with Adyson, had no idea where this was headed. Ferrea was as confusing as she was infuriating.

"Tonight," said Ferrea, "put your socks on the radiator. That way, in the morning they'll be all toasty and warm. That'll cheer you up."

Isabella blinked and took a moment to register. "Let me get this straight," she said slowly. "You come into my house, enslave everyone I know, try to kill my friends, generally make my life miserable, and you're telling me that 'toasty socks' will solve all of this."

Ferrea looked confused. "Yes, that's the gist of it. Do you not like toasty socks?"

Isabella realised an outburst about 'toasty socks' would probably be unintentionally hilarious rather than intimidating, and wisely stayed quiet. Something flared in her mind however, and she swallowed her pride.

"Lucy. There is one thing I… You're going to do something with the network, aren't you? If anything happens to us, could you please make sure Phineas gets through? If you're that good at reading people…"

Lucy smiled sympathetically and nodded. She opened her mouth to speak when the map on the computer screen flashed and moved towards a city street. Someone was talking through the Rapture unit, trying to contact Ferrea. She stood, ready to listen.

No words came.

At least, nothing coherent.

A gurgling, spluttering gasp, followed by the bubbling of liquid that Ferrea knew instantly to be blood filled the air. Alarmed, the girl looked around.

"What unit is this? Who are you? I'll send help!" Her voice was shrill, the lazy smile gone in place of genuine fright.

Isabella swallowed nervously, unsure of whether it was the sounds distressing her or the fact that Ferrea was distressed.

The laboured breathing lead into an attempt at a scream. On the computer screen, the unit began flickering.

"…_Lucy?"_ A quiet voice began over the sounds of the dying woman. _"Lucy, he's killing her and he's making me… Oh god… Lucy…"_

"28? 28, what's going on?" Ferrea had tears in her eyes, evidence of her own feelings of helplessness. "Someone help me here! Isabella, you make…"

At the mention of Isabella, another voice sounded, a guttural snarl of a voice that could not really be understood. 28 whimpered and there was an audible impact through the communicator.

"_Lucy, it's him. From Smile Away. Jesus Lucy, it's Mr Fox."_

Ferrea froze, her scrawny form seizing up almost instantly, her eyes the only thing that moved. Her voice failed her, but her breathing betrayed the fact that she had moved from distress to outright terror. Defrosting shakily, she reached for the workbench for support. Fenris immediately ran to her side, pawing at her desperately.

"It's him, isn't it?" Isabella said, her voice almost a whisper. "Leather Apron."

"What… what are his terms?" choked Lucy, in her heart already taking 28 for dead.

"_He wants… I don't know who that is! I can't… She's bleeding out, just make it stop and I'll say the…"_

Something snapped, a sickening crack echoing through the room. Ferb and Doofenshmirtz were forced to continue working by their orders, but from their reactions, they were all too aware of the situation.

Isabella knew what the terms would be before 28 said it.

"_Lucy… he wants the girl… you mentioned earlier. Isabella. Or… just look at the screen. There are so many of us down here. We can't see…"_

"_Two hours,"_ Mr Fox said, just barely audible.

The dying gasps gave out, and the Rapture unit deactivated.

Green eyes made contact with dark blue.

"Remember what I asked, Lucy," said Isabella, her voice resigned and tranquil.

* * *

In Smile Away, the heavy rain was a mere annoyance, the torrential downpour safely on the outside. In the woods however, it was far more dangerous, and much more infuriating. Gretchen tried her best to shift under the protection of the tree, but the sheer amount of rain forcing its way through the leaves and branches made her attempts rather pointless. She shivered violently and wiped the rain from her glasses.

"Wow," said Adyson weakly. "Didn't really expect to drown."

The girls were frozen, wet and hungry – with no place to go and no method of attack, they had remained in the woods for nearly two days, constantly moving. At the moment, Gretchen recognised the area near one of the Fireside clubhouses, but knew they would be quickly found if they approached the building.

"Yes, I suppose we can collect our hypothermia patches now," said Gretchen.

"Do you remember any of the first aid about that?"

"Not really. Last stage is you feel warm. Then you die."

"Guess I'm not at the last stage yet," said Adyson. She smiled feebly. "I'm freezing."

"Misuse of the word freezing."

"It was an exaggeration! Ow, didn't mean that…"

Adyson had been shaky on her feet ever since their close escape – the pain inflicted on her by the THOR-2 machine was more psychological than physical – she had felt each injury as if it were real, and the shock still lingered. Gretchen was worried that the other girl was going to catch a fever and succumb to exhaustion.

Lightning flashed in the distance, and there were several seconds before the thunder boomed its response.

"Well, at least if we get hit by lightning we'll be warm."

Gretchen made to rise, but Adyson was still holding on for warmth.

"Do you think we should run Gretch? Ferrea won't stop."

"And then what? She controls everyone in Danville, she'll just get us returned."

Adyson shrugged, water spilling from her hair in waves. Gretchen twitched awkwardly before speaking.

"If it's any consolation Adyson, you haven't been quite as stupid over the last few days."

"Heh, that does make me feel better. …Do you think we're going to die?"

"Yes," said Gretchen sinking back down in her position.

Adyson laughed humourlessly. "Can I try something?"

Before Gretchen answered with something scathing or insulting, Adyson had grabbed her kissed her weakly, holding them together for several seconds. When they broke apart, Adyson looked away lamely, completely red.

"That was horrible."

"Agreed," said Gretchen. "We shall never speak of it again."

"I didn't mean it, you know, just given our situation…"

"Aw really? I thought it was sweet," said Lucy Ferrea, sitting on a fallen log nearby and looking extremely smug.

Adyson and Gretchen both leapt to their feet, narrowly avoiding tripping over one another in the process. Lucy held up a hand, and both girls were so confused by the audacity that they actually allowed her to continue.

"Of course, it confirms my suspicions, Ms Sweetwater. As a self-loather, you must adopt that comically absurd persona in public so people see you as something other than a homosexual. Kind of sad really."

"If you're here to kill us, just do it," growled Adyson. "Don't presume to know anything about me."

"Oh, presume? I didn't think you'd use that word, bravo, you're expanding your vocabulary."

"What are you doing?" Gretchen snapped.

Lucy slid off of the log and tossed the sports bag she had been carrying in her right hand. Fenris was nowhere to be seen.

"I've grown bored of playing," said Lucy. "I need your help."

Gretchen and Adyson looked at one another and immediately burst out laughing, nearly doubling over. The laughter went on for a little longer than necessary, and eventually petered out fake and hollow. Gretchen motioned for Adyson to check the sports bag before addressing Lucy, who was strolling over to them.

"I'm assuming this isn't an elaborate prank and I am not on one of those hidden camera shows."

"Not unless I'm in the same situation," said Lucy quickly. "There's been… an incident, and believe me, it's far more threatening than you two."

"It's guns," said Adyson, blatant shock in her voice.

Gretchen glanced down and took the shotgun Adyson handed her from the sports bag, holding it by the barrel.

"I think you call him the Danville Dracula these days."

Adyson stopped what she was doing immediately. Gretchen merely narrowed her eyes, watching Ferrea very closely. Lucy brought a map out from under her raincoat, gesturing to a drawing of the town centre.

"In fifteen minutes, he's going to take Isabella in exchange for the other people he's been kidnapping over the past few days."

"Why do you need us?" asked Gretchen. "Bearing in mind, you killed one of us."

"You killed one of mine."

"Wait, Gretch!" Adyson cried, "You can't be considering leaving the Chief!"

"Quiet Adyson, the big people are talking. Explain."

"He can hear any commands relayed through the Rapture network," said Lucy. "So I needed someone on the outside. You can save Isabella, and I'll let you go. No one else needs to die. We've all lost friends here."

Gretchen moved her hands to the end of the shotgun barrel, holding the gun like a golf club.

"It's an interesting point you raise," she said eventually. "Allow me to retort."

Without warning, Gretchen swung the improvised club full-force into Ferrea's face, a satisfying crack ringing out as the redhead hit the forest floor with a loud dog-like yelp. The defenceless girl raised a hand to her face, covering what would likely be a large cut, but remained on the ground. Gretchen approached and roughly shoved the gun barrel in her enemy's face.

"You tried a little analysis on Adyson there," Gretchen said, glasses flashing. "Where's mine?"

"Ah canff tall wiff un in moof…"

Gretchen removed the barrel from Ferrea's mouth. "I'm disappointed you didn't think that was Freudian, Lucy. Come on, my amateur psychologist, appeal to me. Why should we help you, after all you've done?"

"Gretch, we are going to help the Chief, right?" Adyson said, worriedly looking from one girl to the next.

Gretchen silently moved Ferrea's hand away from the face, exposing the cut left by her previous strike. The skin had torn, and a shiny grey substance leaked from the terrified girl's face.

"Hurm," said Gretchen, removed the safety and pulled the trigger.

The now headless body slumped backwards, its arms spread out wide, vital fluid leaking from what remained of the neck and lower jaw.

"You're gonna vote Republican when you grow up, huh Gretch?" said Adyson.

Gretchen held up a hand and kicked at the body. Circuitry and synthetic skin scattered across the forest leaves.

"_You've shot the messenger I see," _Lucy's voice said, full of humour. _"Cathartic for you, but I still need your help. Ah well, it's your decision. And it's Isabella's life."_

The voice gave out as Gretchen unloaded a second blast into the android's chest, destroying its vocal sections. Adyson stood patiently, waiting for Gretchen's cold rage to subside. Eventually, the bespectacled girl stepped away from the corpse and began walking out of the woods. Adyson hurried after her friend.

"Where are you going?"

"To get Isabella."

Adyson breathed a sigh of relief. "Town square, right?"

"No."

"But…"

"Ferrea said that she was going to be exchanged in town. The killer has the upper-hand – he knows where Ferrea is and knows she won't risk bloodshed. So he'll just take Isabella without exchanging hostages."

"So where are we going?"

Gretchen snorted. "What are you, stupid? Think about it – she doesn't know where he is despite cameras, and he's been snatching people from the streets. He's in the sewers obviously."

The two girls set off across Danville, hurrying to save their friend. In the town square, a frightened Irish boy led Isabella away from safety. In a pitch-black sewer, terrified captives huddled together for warmth. Nearby, a man stalked from the shadows, awaiting his prey.

And high above, Lucy Ferrea smirked, because everyone was where she wanted them.

* * *

**See my nastiness? Open with horrifying, then lead you into a seemingly harmless discusiion about toasty socks, and then straight back to horrifying, just when you thought it was over. The opening quote comes from the English folktale Mr Fox, or as Wikipedia informs me it is called, The Robber Bridegroom. I remember it being called Mr Fox though, so there. So, uh, yeah. Bye.**


	14. Fantastic Mr Fox

**I said it'd be late... Honestly, I used to have a schedule. I'm sorry, I'll do my best to get the next up at a normal time.**

**14 - Fantastic Mr Fox**

_**'I may send you the bloody knif that took it out if you only wate a whil longer**_

**_signed,_**  
_**Catch me when you Can Mishter Lusk**.' _

_**- Excerpt from the 'From Hell' letter. Enclosed with victim's kidney.**_

* * *

Fenris yapped excitedly as thunder boomed overhead. Lucy had finally noticed the cold and had all the windows and doors locked, but the hammering on the shutters was like living inside a drum. The drumming intensified inside her own head, but she was doing her very best to ignore it and continue with the plan. But first, she decided, she would have a talk with Mr Flynn.

Phineas noticed her staring, and shifted awkwardly, stumbling away from his crouched position.

"I think I've said I was expecting more from you Mr Flynn," Ferrea said eventually. "But I'll be going soon and I really want to try to return you to yourself before I go, so I'm going to say it again. You disappoint me."

"Just kill me," said Phineas, leaning against the wall. "I don't care anymore."

The scary thing was, Lucy realised, he was telling the truth. She crouched down to his level, sensing Fenris scarpering under her legs and stopping to sniff at Phineas. Perry immediately appeared from Phineas' arms, making snaps and growls at the dog.

"Enough," said Ferrea, and the Rapture unit brought Perry to a halt. The fact that the Rapture unit had attached itself to the platypus was a never-ending source of fascination to her, but there were more pressing issues at hand. "What brought you to this, Mr Flynn? My father? Your little trip through time?"

Phineas looked past her, maintaining a hostile silence, until realisation sparked within his clouded mind. He could tell Lucy, he could tell her everything because she was just as bad as him, and would know something about it. A flash of hopeful intelligence jumped into his eyes.

"I killed your father… made him do it."

"I know, obviously. I thought that was great, but you don't look happy… Ugh, if everyone shared one mind, these things would be simpler."

"I… I just wanted to continue the way things were, but I can't. Won't let me. I had to kill two more people, and I'm saying had to, but I- I don't even know if that's true. How was I meant to explain that to a therapist? How would he react to a murderer. Didn't mean – I can't, I…"

Lucy leaned back from her crouched position, gazing up at the roof while she thought about it. Isabella had been sketchy on the details about the time travelling incident. And if Fox had been there, who knew what else Phineas had seen?

"Wait a minute… did you go to Smile Away?" Lucy said. "On that trip?"

"We needed fuel," Phineas mumbled. "Thomas set the dogs on us. Ferb got hurt."

"That's what you stole!" exclaimed Lucy, become more excited, her lazy smile developing into a grin. "I was there, and I saw you! First people to break out of Smile Away, and you broke into it first! Mr Flynn, that was what convinced me I could leave!"

Phineas just stared blankly, unsure of how to stop Ferrea's increasingly rapid speech and slow it to a more comprehendible level.

"See?" said Ferrea. "Even if you were like this by that point, I still thought you were the most fascinating person I'd ever seen!"

"But I…"

"Listen to me, Phineas Flynn. My father believed, and I think I do too, that there is a point where you give in completely to your beliefs and abandon everything else. My father did that a short while after I was born, he left all of his feelings, cares and loves so he would be little more than a tool for his own aims."

"Lucy," Phineas muttered, clutching Perry close to his chest. "I can't…"

"This state is not for you Mr Flynn. I don't mean to be rude but it's pathetic, and you shouldn't be this ignorant of your own fame. People look up to you. You mean something to them and I don't think you should take that away. Not that people will be doing much in a couple of hours, but still, I think it's important."

Phineas smiled a little, a rare gesture.

"It's…I did it for them. At least that's how I saw it at first. I just wanted to protect them."

"That I can relate to Mr Flynn. A world where kids like me don't have to exist. Things did return to normal though. Besides my appearance obviously. Why didn't you go back to your big ideas?"

"I can't build anymore. Not really. It doesn't make sense."

Lucy got to her feet, hovering between leaving and adding more of her theories into the conversation.

"You know, they didn't have to make sense Mr Flynn. I think that was the point. You could make an EMP out of the wiring, build a rollercoaster with a brick wall. You're the only person holding you back."

She quickly turned on her heel, hurrying into the central control room with Fenris scampering behind her, beginning to bark with excitement. Phineas sat for some time, absent-mindedly running his hands through Perry's teal fur. The platypus chattered, all too aware of the situations around him. After a while, Phineas turned his blank gaze towards some disused scrap in the corner. All of it was useless, but…

But that had never stopped him before.

"I… I think I know what I'm going to do tonight," he said shakily.

* * *

"Why didn't you run?" asked Isabella.

"It was dark," 28 said, opening the sewer grate. "But there were others down there. That's why I couldn't leave. I'm bringing you so he'll let them go."

Isabella doubted that Fox would let any of them go, but she allowed the Northern Irish boy to hope, because she had lost most of hers. She had been shaking the entire journey to city hall, but now she felt disturbingly calm, and as she descended into the dark of the sewer, she realised it was because she had accepted her own death.

Her tiny shoes slipped on the wet concrete below, but she managed to support herself on the wall. 28 shone light down after her with a flickering flashlight that seemed to be on its last legs. He hopped down, landing perfectly without a sound.

"You're trained, aren't you? Why couldn't you have taken Fox out?"

"I ah, might be trained, but I'm injured and he's armed to the teeth. Nothing changes that. And he's much stronger than he looks."

28 directed her down the tunnel. The stench was overpowering, and she realised exactly why the sewer was such a good lair for Fox. The stench of sewage would easily mask the stench of rotting corpses, and no one above ground would smell anything at all. Isabella was glad for the boy's company. She appreciated someone to talk to before she left.

"I should hate you," she said. "But I can't bring myself to. Not anymore."

"You should hate me," agreed 28, mumbling to himself. Out loud he said, "There's too much of this. It's been too long, all this murder and death. I tried to help people and look what happened."

Isabella felt herself shaking again. It was only when she instinctively touched her face in the dark that she realised she was crying.

"Look at us. We're just kids. If… if I'd seen that the times I clashed with Rains, or blamed Lucy for everything…"

"Sometimes," whispered 28. "I think there's something, ah, wrong with us. Like I wasn't meant for this place, like I'm infecting others. Does that make sense?"

"No," said Isabella, laughing pathetically to cover a sob.

28 put a hand on her shoulder in the dark as they kept walking. His hand was light, fragile like a bird's. She knew she could probably trip him up, restrain him quickly, but it would only lead to other people getting hurt. Fox would probably kill him for it anyway.

"Speaking of Rains," said 28, voice picking up. Isabella did not know if the cheerfulness was forced or not. "Did you ever hear about him starting puberty?"

"What?" Isabella said, a small giggle shaking the tears from her face.

"I'm walking around the school, and ah, I see Rains down at the river. So I head down, and he's scrubbing his trousers really angrily. I ask him if he spilled something and he just screams at me," 28 feigned an English accent, "'It's Ferb's fault and if you mention this to anyone I'll drown you, you wanker!'"

Isabella laughed genuinely. She had guessed what 28 was trying to do, but she thought it was working anyway.

"What happened then?"

"Well I say that from where I'm standing, 'wanker' seems more applicable to him. He chased me round the school for ages. I didn't really tell anyone else, it seemed cruel. That was the deal I had with Thomas anyway – he told me things, I shut up; I told him things, he did his best."

"I do miss his… unique charm," said Isabella sarcastically.

"I thought he was alright. He was…"

"Having fun?" said Mr Fox, whispering in their ears.

Every bit of laughter froze up on Isabella's face in that instant. 28 stopped talking immediately, and his flashlight went out. Fox hated the flashlight – he hated anyone seeing his face.

"Twice now you've gotten away," coughed Fox, and Isabella could feel something wrong with his face when he leaned inwards. "Third time lucky, I'll…"

It took Isabella a moment to realise why her killer had stopped talking. Back down the sewer, roughly where she had entered, she could hear voices. Fox growled lowly, and sprayings of his wound caught her face. It was nauseating, but his distraction was wonderful.

"Take her to larder," said Fox. "Got intruders."

Just like that, he was gone. 28 made a hopeful noise behind her.

"I knew Lucy would do something!"

"Something, certainly," said Isabella. "Whether it's beneficial or not, well…"

* * *

Adyson shone the flashlight underneath her chin as she walked.

"And then, they were forced to watch Seltzer and Friedberg… forever!"

"Yes, terrifying," Gretchen said blandly.

The two looked up at Smile Away hovering above, lights shining out into the night, before simultaneously looking down at the entrance to the sewers. They found that the manhole cover was loose and moved with some effort. The black pit gazed up at them a giant maw.

"I'm surprised you're doing this," Adyson said.

"Chief saved my life once. Have to keep up social niceties. Besides, you would have complained if I didn't."

Adyson's speech had sped up considerably, which Gretchen knew meant that her friend was scared and trying to cover it up.

"You know, if Ferrea has his robots, why doesn't she send them in?"

Gretchen noticed that Adyson was still trying to avoid saying Irving's name.

"Because she wants to distract us. She must be doing something else."

With that, Gretchen dropped down, and Adyson hopped in after her, using the flashlight so that she would not land on Gretchen's head. In their pitch-black surroundings, the sudden beam from the flashlight lit Gretchen's glasses ominously.

"Wow, wonder if there are giant mutant crocodiles in here?"

"There are. We wrestled them, remember?"

"Oh yeah. What about the giant pig-men?"

"You made them up."

"Ah."

Gretchen glanced around, eyes following the beam of light. The path was narrow, rats darting away as they saw the intruders into a thick disgusting river that somehow managed to run, despite being clogged by numerous foul substances.

"It's the chocolate river! We're at Wonka's!" Adyson said, voice quieter now.

"Yes," said Gretchen. "Except that chocolate gives you typhoid and cholera."

They began to walk along, without any real direction other than the occasional wet footprint on the ground in front of them. At one point, Adyson swore she had seen something big dart out of the way of the light, but despite their cautious surveillance, the source was never discovered. The whole time, Gretchen sensed someone there, but the light often revealed nothing but a curious rodent.

After a short time, any footprints had gone – the increasingly wet surface obscured any kind of evidence whatsoever.

Something dripped in the dark.

"There's a door up there," said Adyson, trying to ignore the thing she had stepped in.

"Maintenance," Gretchen said, and approached it.

The door was unlocked, but made a horribly loud noise when opened that made both girls shudder. As it was a maintenance room, as Gretchen had assumed, there was a light switch on the wall, found after some searching. When the light switched on, Adyson closed her eyes to the sudden brightness and stumbled over something.

"Okay, ouch. What's just lying…there…"

Adyson realised what she had stumbled over with queasy horror. She knew of course, that this was a serial killer's den, and she had been steeling herself with black comedy for any sort of dismembered remains, but this was much worse. There were no corpses, no bloody notes on the wall, and no organs in jars.

She had tripped over shoes.

A sizable pile of shoes had gathered in the room, and as Adyson looked around, she saw clothing folded neatly and placed on a shelf. Adjacent to this, wallets and watches were laid out carefully, the wallets often displaying the family photographs. Gretchen kneeled and picked up one of the shoes that Adyson had knocked over. It was small, a tiny white running shoe, pink stripes running up the side. Gretchen suppressed the urge to throw up, but tears were almost visible behind her glasses.

"This is a child's shoe."

"Perhaps the Human Centipede lives here, haha…" Adyson joked weakly.

Gretchen shot her a condemning look. "You're the one that's so terrified of him."

"I am, Gretch. But Jesus, right now, humour's the only thing I have left."

Gretchen made a noise and placed the shoe back where she had found it. The rest of the room was more-or-less bare. A surgery table that looked as if it had been stolen years ago sat in the middle of the room, but there was no trace of the captives. The two girls swallowed their fear and exited, following the sewer to another door much further down, Adyson strangely quiet since Gretchen's sharp reprimand.

Again, something dripped, and something moved.

Adyson had decided that if Fox had suddenly attacked, it would have been much less scary than the moments preceding – it was the looming threat that was worse than the actual event. Gretchen approached the door and gestured for Adyson to open it, while she aimed her shotgun as a precaution.

When the door swung open, the people inside looked up, their faces black from lack of instruction. However, enough of their consciousness was still active that their own rescue began to dawn on them. There were at least ten people in the room, both women and girls, beginning to hope that they would she daylight again.

"Chief!" cried Adyson, a little too loudly.

Isabella laughed disbelievingly at first. "Oh thank god. We though he had you. I can't believe it's you."

"Hurm," said Gretchen. "Do your best to, because we need to move out of here."

"They can't," said 28, moving from the shadows. "They've not been ordered to. Without Lucy's command, they're helpless."

Gretchen pointed the gun at the Irish boy almost immediately, but he simply stared down the barrel unflinchingly.

"Do what you want," he said. "I'm done. Once you get them out, you can kill me. I deserve it."

"Yes you do," Gretchen snapped harshly. "And don't think because you're helping right now means that I won't spread the contents of your head across the opposite wall once we're done."

"Just leave him Gretchen," said Isabella. "It's not his…"

"It's not his what?" Gretchen snarled. "It's not his fault that Irving's dead? Since when did you get so compassionate about someone other than Flynn?"

"I didn't…"

Something dripped and something exploded from the sewage, and Gretchen barely had time to turn before the scalpel was racing towards her face. Discharging her shotgun with a loud blast, she was knocked backwards and the scalpel scraped harmlessly across her glasses. Fox was on her extremely quickly, knife in one hand and scalpel in the other. She kicked at his stomach frantically, unable to reach the shotgun, which had clattered down onto the wet surface.

"Get off of her!" Adyson yelled, charging into Fox at high speed. She knew attacking him with the flashlight would be ineffectual, but she hoped Gretchen had enough time to recover.

Fox stumbled to the side, but brought the knife down in time to pierce through Gretchen's palm, where a second earlier it would have speared her throat. Gretchen shrieked in pain, the world becoming little more than a shrieking blur as Adyson held off Mr Fox's blades as best she could, quick slashes slicing her forearms.

Gretchen scrambled for the gun as Fox swiped Adyson aside. Slipping and falling on the floor, Adyson had little time to recover, looking up to see Fox bearing down on Gretchen before the gun could be retrieved.

"Hail Mary, full of grace, the lord is…"

Someone crashed directly into Fox's back, sending him over the edge of the platform and into the deep filth he had come from. Blinking in surprise, Gretchen realised that 28 had seized his chance and had attacked, tearing and gouging at Fox's open face wound with all his remaining strength. Blood and pus steamed from the killer's face and mixed with sewage, but he was much stronger than the boy, and even as his eye was ruined by a searing pain, he began to overpower him.

Gretchen tried to move forward for the shotgun, her free hand grasping desperately. Adyson was struggling to stand, instinctively looking at the wounds forming on her arms and looking around in blind terror. Seeing how desperate the situation was, Gretchen looked at her pinned hand as sewage splashed against them, 28 struggling valiantly but ultimately failing, Fox wildly stabbing and slashing with the scalpel.

Gretchen screamed with pain and pulled the knife from her palm, inadvertently knocking the shotgun into the water. Adyson had recovered and immediately leapt on Fox, punching and biting, trying anything to stop the man's vicious attack on 28. 28 cried out as several savage movements hit vital areas.

The moment seemed to stand still however, as Gretchen slid into the sewage, approaching carefully, the sounds of the screaming captives, the violent cries of the fighting dulled in her vision. Her glasses were slightly cracked, but she approached steadily, ignoring the pain in her hand. With sudden speed, she grabbed the few remaining tufts of Fox's hair and pulled his head back with every bit of force she could muster.

"It's left-to-right, isn't it?" She snarled, and opened Fox's throat with his own knife.

Leather Apron made a horrific gurgling noise, shaking Adyson from him and ceasing to attack 28. He turned towards Gretchen, moving towards her staggeringly as she took steps back in the repulsive sewage. One wild eye rattled in its socket, trying to target her, before the life faded from it and the terror of Danville fell forwards into the sewage, and did not get up.

The moments after were blurry and confused for all of the children, but they found themselves back on the platform, coughing up blood and sewage in equal measure. Gretchen had never been so disgusted in her entire life.

"Gretch," Adyson said softly. Her wounds were minor, but Gretchen realised that her friend was gesturing towards 28.

The Irish boy had sat himself up against the cold wall, looking their way. He was even paler than normal, but he grinned at them despite the cold tears running down his face.

"I, ah, never wanted to hurt anyone…" he said. "But no matter, what I did… it always ended badly… I'm a coward and I'll pay for my sins but… I think… I think I did the right thing finally… Ha. Who mourns a eunuch, right Seven?"

Despite Adyson's attempt to administer some kind of aid, the boy gave out and died quietly. He looked much smaller in death, and even more fragile. Adyson closed his eyes gently, wiping away her own tears, only to realise she had none left. The boy's skin felt cold as she brushed the hair away from his face, but he appeared at peace for once in his life.

"I'm contacting Ferrea," Gretchen said coldly. "We're done here."

Further down the sewers, Fox's body travelled with what little current there was towards a huge drop. Amid the roar of descending water, his plummeting corpse made no sound or impact at all, and Jack the Ripper disappeared from existence without a trace.

* * *

**I'm quite glad to be rid of Fox, and I can't think of a better way to kill him - after all his insane grasps at infamy and legend, like in his rant to Ironside, after all that, he's literally nothing but sewage, forgotten by everyone. I also relented with 28 - originally he ran away as Gretchen and Adyson attacked Fox, and killed himself out of guilt, but here I let him go out protecting people rather than the violent actions he was forced into most of his life. His death is best thing for him - he can be happy, whereas for Fox, death means no recognition. Jack the Ripper's letter is printed up there as it was sent - it's his awful spelling, not mine.**


	15. Midnight, The Stars And You

**Is it a bird? Is it a plane? NO! It's EmperorDoofenshmirtz with an on-time update! You may well be shocked, you may be amazed and horrified, ladies and gentlemen, but it's the truth!**

**15 - Midnight, The Stars And You**

_**'I thought what I'd do was, I'd pretend I was one of those deaf-mutes' **_

* * *

_What's the problem with this world?_

_Everything._

_More or less._

_You see, every problem, when you look at the big picture, comes from one simple fact: individuality._

_Conflicting ideas, beliefs, desires, wants, needs – all an aspect of a person's personality. You might say that if everyone was the same, there would be no conflict._

_I think you'd be correct. The founding principles of objectivism, for instance, celebrate the individual, but fail to recognise that despite everyone having the same opportunity to begin with, things won't stay that way. Greed, corruption and crime push some down, and others up._

_On the other side, communism is all about equality – everyone has the same amount of money, status, respect. This is called the dictatorship of the proletariat. It doesn't work because not everyone believes in it, and people in important positions learn to abuse power. Once again, it comes down to individuals ruining everything._

_Then there's fascism. A pure dictatorship, a single person. This means that everyone is united under one person. It's funny – now a 'dictator' is a bad thing, but in Ancient Greece, the term was neutral, with some good dictators, and bad dictators. But, even under the guiding personality of one, people are likely to rebel. How to make them think the same?_

_I suppose, looking at it like this, I am a fascist. Yes. Yes, regardless of the negative connotations, there's no denying that Lucy Ferrea is and always has been a fascist. When you look at political spectrums, you'll be surprised to see how the extremes of either side become similar to one another. You might call me a fascist collectivist! _

_That makes no sense._

_It makes some sense._

_No, it makes sense or it doesn't!_

_I've… gotten ahead of myself, of my idea, but the overall point is – personalities are the problem, aren't they?_

_If everyone thinks the same, they'll be no conflict, no pain. True equals._

_So, who should lead this idea? Who has the will to push it forward?_

_I do. I have come this far. Everyone obeys my exact commands. Without my commands, they are useless._

_And yet… at the end of the day, they can still think, can't they?_

_Cogito ergo sum._

_I think, therefore I am._

_Nothing in this world exists only slightly. It is, or it is not. So if you don't think, are you undone?_

_Or is it something greater?_

_I think. They won't._

_If I think for them, the only one that exists is me, but they can't exist only slightly so which one is it?_

_WHICH ONE IS IT?_

"Which one is it?" Lucy said aloud.

"Which one is what?" asked Doofenshmirtz.

Lucy blinked, staggering slightly so that she was forced to sit down. It took her several seconds to realise that she was in the central control room, the strange light bearing down on her emanating from the huge computer systems.

"Hey, kid, are you okay?" said Doofenshmirtz.

Even the forced-mute Candace looked up in concern, wondering what was going on. Doofenshmirtz and Ferb were forced by their orders to continue working as they did so, but they were still watching her.

"What?" Ferrea snapped suddenly. "What is it you want? Do as you're told… just leave me alone!"

They all turned away from her at the insistence, tinkering with a machine that she knew to be finished but had not possessed the willpower to activate until now.

It was what she liked to call the completed version of the Rapture network, a far more sophisticated system. It was powerful, infallible and all-encompassing, but most importantly, it was _ridiculous. _Only something built by Ferb Fletcher like this would work – it was little more than a fantasy, a cheap science-fiction plot, but now it had been given reality. She wondered if she had ordered Mr Fletcher to raise the dead how quickly it would have taken him.

She knew now that nothing was impossible – as long as you set the mind to it.

_This is the concept on which this world is based._

_It's ridiculous._

_Precisely._

_It can be done because it has never been done before. And who performs these logic defying feats but Ferb Fletcher? …Well, Phineas Flynn I suppose._

_I'm finally here. I'm finally at this moment, standing on the brink of the decision. When this is done…_

_There will be nothing like Smile Away again. No crime, no fighting, no Ironside, no Fox, no me. Not in Danville. And then, who knows? I don't know if I can expand or not, but maybe everywhere else._

_Who's to say I can't expand? Isn't that what this is about, doing the impossible, something previously unfathomable?_

_It's just… It's just that this is final. As I look at them, I'm at the final step, and I don't want to take it. There could be no coming back from this. At least I will cease to be as I am now. I don't…_

_I want my dad. Even as he was, even with everything, at least life made sense in those days, at least… Thomas, Bob, 27, 28… Damaged, but they were my friends, and now they're gone. I'm alone. And if I do this, it will only be me, alone forever._

_I wonder if that's such a horrible thought._

_Alone, who's to decide how society functions, how to behave? I can reshape everything in my own image, and there's no one going to stop me!_

_Yes there is._

_Gretchen. Gretchen, Gretchen, Gretchen. Get out of my head. I can see you right now, you smug unbearable sociopath. And yet, I think we both understood when we first met. That's why I've been fighting with you like this, because it was fun, because we both knew, when we met, that both of us were alone and at odds. When I take this step I may well have to kill you, but I'd love for you to survive somehow. I want to fight you for as long as possible. It could go on for years, each of us getting the upper hand, matching plans against one another._

_You can never be part of this anyway. You have to stay outside._

_And I go alone._

Fenris barked, jumping Ferrea out of her trance again. She laughed and ruffled the fur on his head, leaving it spiky and awkward-looking. The dog pawed at his face until the fur felt normal again, before lightly standing on his hind legs and whining at his owner. She glanced down sadly.

"Fenris, we've been together for a year or so, and I really will miss you." She moved down to his level. Sensing something wrong, the dog tried to get her to play, a futile attempt to cheer her up. "No, Fenris. I'm… I'm going to go away, and you can't come with me. It's not that I don't want you to, it's…"

The whine cut through her and hurt her more than anything else ever could. It was like her hand being impaled once again.

"I'm not abandoning you. Mr Flynn's going to be there, and I'll be able to see you, even if you can't… You know, some people would say you can't understand me. I'll miss you so much. Thank you."

She stood up and began to walk towards the completed Rapture network, aware of the huge shadow she must have cast as she got closer to the illuminated screens and maps. The padding of paws met her ears and she wiped away tears before they fell.

"Fenris, stay."

Fenris did stop, but as she kept walking, she heard one uncertain paw move forward, and the Labrador making noises of conflicted distress.

"Stay."

Fenris sat still, watching her go dejectedly.

"Begin the Rapture, Mr Fletcher!" Lucy called.

Several switches and levers were pulled with decisive echoes, the loud thundering of the machine intensifying like drums. Lucy took one last look out of the window of the control room, the room that had once been the bunker she had been born in. Outside, the heavy rain had stopped, leaving only the dark of midnight, with the stars and her.

"It will end where it began," Lucy muttered to herself.

She ran her hand along the casing of what had been a virtual reality simulator, an egg-shaped device that now sat it the centre of all the computer systems and monitors, emitting a humming blue light much like the Rapture units. Ferb approached from behind her, and she could tell that he was trying to fight his orders.

"Lucy… please don't do this. Don't go through with it… It's never been done before… shock could kill you…"

Lucy smiled, forcing him to look at her by lifting his chin.

"That's very caring of you, Mr Fletcher, but we both know that you don't care what happens to me. You just don't want to go. You want to think, live your life how you want it. It's not going to happen. You all gave up that right. Now begin!"

The central pod hissed as it open, revealing a seat leaned back, screens and wires retracting with the doors. Lucy sat down in it carefully and lay back, sighing ultimately. The doors hissed closed slowly, and she witnessed the world disappear with her own eyes.

In the muffled dark, the wires and claws descended on her face, clamping onto her head and moving towards her ears. She could feel them inside her head, but the sensation was hardly painful.

Then the pain came on a sudden wave, rushing through her brain like the Rapture unit had done the first time, reaching inside her mind, but his time, not merely attaching and restraining. It pulled, not physically, but something else, something that she could not describe.

She screamed.

Outside the central network area, Fenris whined loudly, becoming increasingly desperate and worried, barking when he heard his owner in pain. The people in the room glanced at each other, just as worried as the dog, but for themselves rather than Ferrea. Ferb and Doofenshmirtz looked at each other.

"I wish I could have seen my daughter one last time," Heinz said, feeling something course through the Rapture unit on his neck and in his mind.

"Hey, me too," said Ferb, grinning.

"How can you joke about this…" Heinz said, agony beginning to contort his face.

"Because I will not go out scared or screaming," Ferb said, and then the torture tore through his mind.

The terrible pain and anguish caused most of them to sink to the floor, clutching at their heads. Some even tore wildly at the Rapture units on their necks for all the good that it did. Ferb closed his eyes, feeling something more horrible than anything he had ever felt in his life. He was going. He could feel himself being pushed aside in his own body, a prisoner in his own head.

"_Mum's not here right now Ferb, okay?"_

_Let me in._

"_I'm Thomas. Thomas Rains. Bad second name, huh? When it Rains, it pours, hehe…"_

_Give up._

"_Hi, I'm Phineas! There's Candace, and you've already met Mom…"_

_Stand aside._

"…_I know what we're going to do today!"_

_You will surrender. Let me in and cease to think. _

"…_summer belongs to you, summer…"_

_It will be swift. Mercy comes when you finally relent. This is not death. _

"…_so tomorrow, i… Smi…ay…"_

_You do nothing but fight. All of you. Humans cannot live as individuals, your thoughts and motives cause you to harm one another. Hate. You hate each other. Such a powerful emotion._

"_Mom…neas…Ferb…backya…"_

_Well let me tell you how much I hate all of you. You cannot be trusted. You need to be controlled from the source, and I do mean the very origin of your own depravity. Your thoughts, personalities, everything. They disgust me. So you can all just die._

Ferb let out what began as a terrifying scream but ended in little more than a whimper. He thought that he had collapsed on the floor, but soon he could not see, hear or sense anything at all. But he was aware of himself. He knew and remembered what had happened, but now there was nothing.

Nothing. If asked before to imagine nothing, he might have thought of something not unlike midnight, the stars and him alone. The truth was far worse as he grew to understand what nothing really meant.

Alone.

* * *

Gretchen pulled Isabella's hair up with far more force than was necessary, and searched for the communicator on the Rapture unit. Finding some sort of indent, she pressed it and spoke aloud hoping for the best. Her right hand was in agony and she did not know if she could use it properly.

"Ferrea, we're done. Order them out."

There was no reply. Adyson looked up nervously. The released captives glanced around with panic, realising their situation if Ferrea did not give them orders.

"Could you stop pulling my hair Gretchen?" Isabella said weakly.

"Pain builds character," Gretchen said sarcastically. "Perhaps the trauma will affect your voice so that you no longer sound like a walking helium factory."

"It is a little excessive Gretchen," Adyson said, her nose wrinkled in disgust as she dipped an arm into the sewage, seeking the shotgun.

"Don't do that!" Gretchen snapped.

"Why not?"

"You have cuts on your arms, you primitive… pleb! You'll get them infected!"

"Oh. Didn't think of that. Good call, Gretch."

"If you get Weil's disease or something, you'll have deserved it!"

"Look, you're still pulling my hair," Isabella protested. No one was listening anymore.

"Well you got that wound in your hand," said Adyson. "And you jumped in after the guy to kill him!"

"Because he would have killed you!" Gretchen realised what she had sounded almost human for a moment, and so added, "Not that I care."

"Look this really hurts," said Isabella.

"Sorry Chief," said Adyson. "Gretchen, could you let go?"

"I did let go," Gretchen snapped.

"But I still…" Isabella trailed off and then shrieked suddenly, falling to the ground.

Adyson immediately ran to Isabella's side, but Gretchen had realised that something was happening to the other captives too. One by one, the women sank to the floor, some whimpering, some flinching repeatedly and one or two letting out the most terrorizing noises Gretchen had ever heard. The screams echoed down the sewer tunnels.

"What the hell's happening?" Adyson cried, shaking Isabella helplessly.

"I don't…" said Gretchen quietly, lost for words. "I don't know… I can't…"

Isabella's shrieks suddenly stopped. Other blood-curdling screeches from captives similarly came to a halt, some lasting longer than others but all trailing off eventually.

"Isabella?" Adyson asked cautiously. "Chief? Please talk to me, say something. You can yell at me if you want…"

Isabella sat up awkwardly, the other women doing the same. Their movements were not quite simultaneous, and many were simply wrong to look at, like their bodies had suddenly lost proportion. Isabella's head tilted on one side suddenly, an action Gretchen had never seen on the Fireside Girl Chief before.

"Adyson," Gretchen said warily, "We need to go, now."

"Gretch, she needs our help, she needs…"

"Now!" snapped Gretchen, and pulled her friend away. The two of them backed off further down the tunnel as the former captives rose to their feet.

The speaker on the Rapture device crackled into life.

"_Ah, there you are! Forgive me, things have changed up a little… Got complete control now."_

"Ferrea."

"_You were expecting someone else? It's funny, now that I can see what I see, I think I get sarcasm."_

"What have you done?" Adyson said. "You've hurt them, haven't you? That's… that's…"

"Found something you can't joke about?" Gretchen asked grimly.

"I think so. Look at them."

"_I've not really hurt them… excuse me, I'll show you…"_

Isabella jerked her head back slightly, before leaning forward to speak. However, when she spoke, her voice seemed off, something both wrong and correct at the same time. It was the speech pattern, Gretchen realised quickly. It was Isabella's voice, but someone else was speaking.

"_I'm sorry," _said Isabella. _"The people of Danville aren't in their heads right now. But if you'd like to leave a message, I'll be sure,"_

"…_to remember…" _said a second woman.

"…_to tell them," _said a third.

"_I do the thinking now," _Isabella said cheerfully. _"There's no conflict with one mind. Not a good one anyway, haha. Of course, my perfect, system, my perfect being that can see through every pair of eyes, speak through every mouth and move every body… well, it has a parasite problem."_

"Let me guess," Adyson said, as she and Gretchen hurriedly took further steps back. "This is the part where you kill us."

"_This is the part where I kill you," _Isabella confirmed, and Adyson and Gretchen ran for their lives.

* * *

**This chapter was originally named Instrumentality, but ere's the original quote I was going to go with to head the chapter - 'I will bring peace to the world. Everlasting peace. And unity. And uniformity.' from Doctor Who. I thought it gave a bit too much away, plus I wanted to avoid association with that episode, because Ferrea's takeover is much more serious, terrifying and less funny. This has always been Ferrea's goal from when she arrived - the idea is that, say in the regular episodes, when Isabella or someone asks, Phineas and Ferb build them whatever they want, an impossible creation. Well, what if someone malicious, but with the same level of childish imagination had them build something? Yes, Ferrea's thoughts are meant to overla in a confusing, contradictory way - she's a child trying to explain childish logic in an adult manner.**


	16. The Voice of Fate

**I realise it must be quite annoying for me to say nothing other than 'sorry I'm late', but eh...sorry I'm late? Ahem, anyway...**

**16 - The Voice of Fate**

_**In which absurdity makes its triumphant return**_

* * *

The sound of feet battering on the concrete in pursuit of Gretchen and Adyson was marred by the slipping and crashing inevitable of such a wet surface. Several of their pursuers yelped and disappeared into the sludge of the sewer, and only some clambered out again. Adyson supposed that, taken out of context, her and Gretchen's careful shuffling run would look hilarious.

Gretchen's breathing was shallow – even in an injured state Adyson was far quicker, and Isabella was almost directly behind them. Pale moonlight shone through the open manhole through which they had entered. Adyson bounded onto the ladder, immediately turning to hold out a hand for her friend.

"Hurry up Gretch! Stephen Hawking moves faster than you!"

"How… amusing," spat Gretchen between breaths.

Isabella reached the last few feet, bursting forward with energy not quite her own, grabbing Gretchen by the hair and yanking her backwards with a great degree of force.

"_Too slow," _said Isabella's voice, pulling Gretchen's head back, ready to slam it into the wall.

Adyson wondered if Lucy had thought that she would not harm Isabella. It certainly seemed that way, as the recovering women all seemed to be sprinting for Gretchen. If this was the case, thought Adyson, Lucy was sorely mistaken. Adyson punched Isabella in the face without a moment's hesitation, dropping the chief into the sewer, and seizing Gretchen before she fell in too.

"_Ah! This is disgusting!" _Isabella wailed, nearly retching.

She clambered back onto the surface, but Gretchen and Adyson had already disappeared up the ladder.

"_Doesn't matter," _the avatar muttered. _"I'll be there before you anyway."_

"I told you that you should exercise more," chirped Adyson, pulling Gretchen up through the manhole.

"It was…illogical… to assume I would need to… run… so frequently…"

"Excuses, excuses," said Adyson, and then apparently remembered the last five minutes. "What the hell was that body-snatcher stuff?"

Gretchen slid the manhole cover back over just before Isabella darted up the ladder. Adyson half-expected Isabella's indent to appear in the metal, in a slapstick manner, but instead there was only the noise of a collision followed by someone hitting the floor below with a grunt. Gretchen chuckled.

"Always did want to strike the chief like that." She imitated Isabella's voice momentarily. "Ooh, Phineas, let us frolic and fornicate!"

"She said that?" Adyson asked.

"Of course not you homunculus!" Gretchen snapped quickly, getting to her feet.

The clouds from the storm had dissipated rather rapidly, leaving the moon and the stars visible in the portions of the sky not dominated by Smile Away. It gave both girls, tired and hungry, a bleached skeletal appearance. They walked together as Gretchen thought, passing under orange street lights and plunging back into darkness. No one else was on the streets, but Gretchen did not expect it to stay that way for long.

"Hurm. The majority of people will be sleeping now, but if Ferrea has complete control now, I expect she'll have them out hunting for us shortly."

"Gretch, you hand, it's…"

"If we were able to get up into Smile Away, we'd avoid the vast majority of conflict and have the chance to subdue Ferrea quickly."

Drawing her eyes away from Gretchen's maimed hand, Adyson asked "Subdue her? I thought by now, you of all people'd want to kill her."

"Of course I want to kill her," drawled Gretchen. "I want to subdue her quickly. I never said I wanted to kill her quickly. In fact, if we have the time, I'd like to crucify her upside down at the front of that awful fortress. Objection?"

"…I think the readers would like me to say, yes I object, that's horrible. However, yes, let's totally do that."

"Glad we…" Gretchen stopped. "What is that?"

White metal, dulled by debris and dust, managed to glint at them in the pale moonlight. Amongst the wreckage of streets and housing, 28's section of the exoskeleton lay intact, instantly recognisable. Adyson made a strange noise halfway between a gasp of surprise and a yelp of joy, and darted forward, pushing the power suit remains into a standing position.

"Gretch, I think we found our way up! Thank you, kind author! I take back the whole 'dour Scottish bastard' thing!"

"Hurm," said Gretchen, "Our luck does appear to be changing somewhat. How does this work?"

"Like most of Phineas an Ferb's stuff," said Adyson, "Probably basic. You stand in here, like this… and here we go. It's just basically got 'hover', 'jet' and a joystick for directing it."

"How are we both meant to get in?" Gretchen asked, approaching cautiously.

The sound of scrambling limbs met their ears – Lucy was mobilising faster than Gretchen had thought. They needed to move quickly before she discovered them standing around in the street.

"Let me solve this problem," Adyson grinned evilly, and roughly pulled Gretchen over, holding her wriggling friend with one arm.

"What are you doing? I really must protest!"

"Threetwoonego!"

The quiet dark of midnight was split by the screech of engines as the bottom half of the powered exoskeleton shot through the sky towards Smile Away. Just lower than the roar of the flight, was a yelling voice.

"This is most unorthodox!" Gretchen screamed as she flew through the air, held on only by Adyson's somewhat lazy and untrustworthy grasp.

Smile Away approached rapidly, and the powered battle suit adjusted in flight accordingly, hurtling towards a weak-looking window.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this your captain speaking. If you look directly ahead, you should see a flying fortress, into which we are making our descent. Expect to…um, explode, I guess."

"Adyson what the hell are you…"

"MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE!"

Gretchen felt herself lowered in Adyson's hold, as the powered suit turned rapidly and cut off its jets, leaving it propelling feet-first towards the window. Adyson was covering Gretchen with the safest area. The suit smashed through the glass with little effort, and the metallic legs struck the interior floor so hard that they dug through the concrete, dragging along to a stop.

Gretchen dropped to the ground and swore. Adyson hopped out of her pilot's seat happily, grinning madly.

"Round of applause please?"

Gretchen was about to open her mouth to say something scathing, but the sound of clapping distracted her. Adyson turned as well, searching for her audience.

Phineas Flynn stepped out from behind a pile of scrap metal and technology, applauding politely. Physically, he looked tired and weak, but his movements seemed bursting with energy, and for the first time in a long while, his eyes matched his smile.

"Good morning ladies. Have either of you ever used a door?"

Adyson blinked. "There was a door?"

"Of a sorts. Lucy installed an elevator yesterday. You can get to it from the street level."

"You could have killed me!" Gretchen exclaimed, picking herself up. "I'll be finding glass in my hair for weeks!"

"Little bit of glass never hurt anyone," Adyson retorted.

"You both seem fine," Phineas said, leaning onto a workstation. "But it's serendipitous that you're here, it'd be good to have some extra workers. Of course, Lucy probably heard that and knows we're here now."

Adyson looked around at her surroundings and smiled, thankful for Irving's fascination with collecting inventions. The storeroom contained nearly everything Irving had stored in his basement, with the obvious exception of the Beak power armour. Phineas gestured to the inventions.

"Cool, huh? Some will help, but as for my big plan I'm starting from scratch." He pointed over at a cannibalised heap of computer parts and wiring.

"What is it?"

"She said build an EMP out of stuff from the walls, so that's what I'm doing. Well, not exactly, it's a massive signal jammer that should cut out the Rapture network."

"That doesn't make any sense," Gretchen said doubtfully. "How can you build something like that from… this?"

"Easy," said Phineas, eyes shining. "It doesn't have to make sense, because I'm Phineas Flynn!" He leapt onto the workstation, looking down at the two girls. "Since when have my inventions ever made sense? Since when have Smile Away's motives made sense? We're two sides of the same coin. If she can do the impossible, so can I! I've spent a year wallowing in self-pity, forgetting that keep moving forward is as applicable as ever!"

"He's snapped," whispered Gretchen.

"Actually, I think he's better," replied Adyson hopefully.

"Lucy said it herself," continued Phineas. "There is a point where you give in so completely to your beliefs, that you become something else entirely. I stand for creativity, freedom, whether I like it or not. It's time I lived up to that. Smile Away have been nothing but the opposite, and that's how I learned to stop worrying and love them. If they're the opposite of me, then obviously I have to be the opposite of them!"

"You're just figuring this out now? What are you, stupid?"

"But think about it!" Phineas exclaimed, apparently realising his difficulty in conveying his point. "If they're broken, insane, violent, then I have to peaceful and well-adjusted! It's like Napier said so long ago. I hate myself. But… if I can learn to love Smile Away, for its ridiculousness, for its sheer insanity, then maybe, I can learn to love myself."

"You've lost me," Adyson said.

"I'm Phineas Flynn, and I'll fill my side of the bargain. I'll bring Smile Away down, and I'll do it non-violently! Behold, the Signal Jammer 3000!"

He burst into laughter, and hopped down from the workbench, moving back over to his incomplete invention and tinkered with several loose parts, fitting them into place with efficiency that had seemed long since lost to him. From the corner, Fenris yapped in approval, padding over to sniff at Adyson's legs.

"Aw look, you're still alive!" Adyson said joyfully, scratching the dog behind the ears.

"Yeah, Lucy left him after she went into the Rapture network," said Phineas, now underneath the signal jammer, suspended upside down in a cartoon-like fashion.

"Hurm," said Gretchen quietly, eyeing the dog thoughtfully.

Once again, the sound of pounding feet met Gretchen and Adyson's ears for what felt like the hundredth time.

"Does she know where we are exactly?" Gretchen asked.

"Probably not," Phineas said in a bored voice, using a screwdriver to attach a panel. "I locked Perry in the cupboard over there and blocked the door with anything I could find before the Rapture network went online. So Lucy can't see or hear us right now."

"How'd you know she can't hear us?"

Phineas shrugged unhelpfully, and Adyson's confidence was not exactly restored. She was avoiding being attacked by a platypus though, and that tended to be a positive thing. Gretchen examined Phineas' invention.

"How long until it's complete?" she asked.

"Ten, twenty minutes?"

"We don't have that time."

Adyson ran her hand along a familiar-looking piece of equipment.

"I can buy us some time," she said with a grin.

Phineas turned his head to look and smiled. "Excellent. If you do that… Hey, where's Gretchen?"

"And where's Fenris?" asked Adyson.

* * *

Lucy Ferrea opened the eyes of a policeman, and walked him down the corridor. She did not know exactly how many people were in the Rapture network, only that she was looking through the eyes of every single one of them and there were no traces of Gretchen and Adyson. She assumed that they were on Smile Away though – the crash minutes ago had all but confirmed that.

In the central control room, she moved everyone but Ferb from the room, and used them to look for the intruders too. She had grown used to the network quickly – now she could control countless people at the same time. However, she ignored anyone not already on the flying building – it would take a while to bring them all up, and she knew that she would need to act fast if she wanted to counter Gretchen's plans.

She moved her hastily assembled mob towards the source of the sound, checking weapons. Two had guns, being police officers she had brought up to protect her earlier. She made the rest pick up pipes, knives, anything they could carry.

_There's nothing more reminiscent of what I'm trying to do than mob mentality. Perfect synchronisation, one living breathing organism spread out over so many bodies. I'll tear them apart._

_I miss the twins. Right about now they could sing something to show my triumph._

"_There is a happy land, far, far away," _she sang through Candace's body.

"_Where saints in glory stand, bright, bright as day…"_

Something flitted across the mob's field of vision. Adyson Sweetwater darted through the corridor, and with Lucy surged after her, the many-bodied organism lurching forward like a huge arachnid. Gunshots from the front two pistols sounded, and Adyson appeared to stumble forward.

"_Oh, how they sweetly sing, fallen is our Saviour King…"_

Knives and blunt instruments hailed down, thrust and swung in a perfectly timed assault, raining on Adyson's tumbling form. The girl seemed to take a lot of injury before she finally went down, struggling in vain.

"_Loud let his praises sing, praise, praise for aye…"_

Through the body of the policeman, Lucy calmly aimed down the sights and pulled the trigger, exploding the victims head across the cold floor. It was a crueller death than she had wanted to give, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Oil and sparks shot out of the prone, jittering figure.

"_Ah,"_ Lucy said through the policeman. _"I think this is called irony."_

"WAR!" screamed the real Adyson, and the androids descended from the rafters into the crowd.

Frantic gunshots sounded, but at such close quarters and against countless inhuman enemies they were almost useless. Ferrea searched for the real Adyson, but all she could she were the replicants, forcing people to the ground and restraining them.

"Remember," Adyson's voice came again. "Don't kill them! Ah, third act, how I love you so…"

Borne out of cold rage, Ferrea focused her attention on each individual person at a time, jamming blades into processors and destroying circuitry with bare hands. More seemed to replace the fallen, but Ferrea managed to push back up, forcing the replicants back into the storeroom.

"_If you tried to kill them Adyson, you might be successful. Too bad you don't have it in you to kill your friends…"_

Adyson was jamming the door shut, her copies blocking the entrance with their bodies or assisting her. Ferrea fired several shots into the door, hoping to strike through to the other side. The door began to buckle inwards from the force, with the androids likely being the only thing holding up the thin barrier between survival and carnage.

"Phineas, hurry up!"

"These things take time, just don't die for five more minutes, 'kay?"

"_Ooh, do I hear Mr Flynn? I can't wait to see how you're going to try to stop me. Are you feeling better?"_

"Much better. In fact, your reign of terror is just about over."

"_How exciting!"_

The door began to crack, the mob reaching round the sides, firing and slashing at anything that looked remotely like a target.

"Once more unto the breach you cannon-fodder!" Adyson yelled over the din. "Hold her off with everything you have! Oh my god, I sound so awesome… I wish I had the squeaky hammer…"

Ferrea sensed something else, and kept pressing on, but switched her attention to Ferb's unit. Gretchen was approaching.

* * *

Fenris writhed a little in Gretchen's tight grasp, confused eyes looking to his captor pitifully. Gretchen ignored his whines and kicked open the great oaken doors. A huge monitor illuminated the room, backed up by the random blinking of computer systems and the low hum of the central dome-like containment structure.

"Lucy, I'm home," Gretchen said without a trace of real humour.

She could tell that the room was more-or-less deserted and wondered how Adyson and Phineas would hold up against the assault. She did feel slightly guilty for abandoning them like that, but if Phineas' signal jammer worked, someone needed to make sure Ferrea could not simply reactivate afterwards. Gretchen's glasses flashed dangerously in the light as a figure emerged from the shadows.

"_Just a minute… ah, new voice. Hello. Helloooo. Whoa, it's weird having an English accent."_

Ferb walked into the centre of the room, watching Gretchen closely. Ferrea's lazy smile did not look right on Ferb's usually stoic face.

"_I knew you'd come. And you brought Fenris too."_

"Yes. Now stand aside or I'll snap his neck."

Distress flitted across Ferb's face, and his voice was shaky when he next spoke.

"_Now let's think about this Gretchen. There's no reason we can't be civil…"_

"This is what you wanted isn't it?" Gretchen snapped. "You wanted to match wits with someone and that's what you got – I outwitted you. Now let me through or Fenris dies."

Fenris whined loudly, kicking against Gretchen's chest.

"_Gretchen... Put him down."_

"Let me through."

"_Gretchen…"_

"Killing in three…"

"_GRETCHEN PUT THE FUCKING DOG DOWN!"_

Ferb lurched forward, an action even Gretchen had not predicted. In her surprise, she dropped Fenris, immediately raising her arms to protect herself. Ferb hit her like a ton of bricks, sending her skidding across the floor. The attack resumed rapidly, with punches and kicks unleashed in quick succession.

Gretchen fought back viciously, biting and kicking, grabbing at the Rapture unit on the back of Ferb's neck to no avail. Gaining the upper hand, Ferb brought his fist down several more times, cracking Gretchen's glasses. Fenris was barking furiously, unsure of who to attack in the current situation.

"_How do you feel now, you smug idiot? There's your plan, straight out the window! It'd be funny if it wasn't so pathetic. Can't you see what I'm doing here?"_

Ferb seized Gretchen by the throat and pinned her to the wall. Lights flashed before Gretchen's eyes, her vision blurry.

"_You could have surrendered at the start. I would have liked that, we were equals. We're smarter than the rest of these drones, don't you see?"_

The grip lessened to allow Gretchen to speak.

"Of course I see. We're not so very different you and I. I suppose…you care about these people though… you want to help. I don't care about them in the slightest. Aside from that, we're the same. Unfortunately for you, you killed Irving, who I did care about."

"_I didn't kill Irving. Not personally, and not intentionally… Wait a minute."_

Ferb looked blank for a second, as a short distance away, the mob burst into the storeroom, to be confronted with a bizarre invention humming gently.

"_What is that?"_ All Rapture units said simultaneously.

_I may have been outwitted._

* * *

**If you notice, that is the first time Ferrea has ever sworn throughout the entire story, which is quite impressive considering 27 swore constantly right next to her. If Tempus Fugit was a sort of deconstruction, I think this counts as reconstruction - the nonsensical elements of the actual show are returning, and Phineas is sane...ish. A bit unhinged, but helpful. I think this chapter demonstrates that no matter how good you are at scheming, your plans, when faced with Adyson, will ultimately fail. See you next time for the last chapter before the inevitable wrap-up!**


	17. Stand Alone Complex

**I thought it was kinda important to have an update on time for once. But then, it is the final battle, so to speak.**

**17 - Stand Alone Complex**

_**I thought what I'd do was, I'd pretend I was one of those deaf-mutes**_

* * *

The door buckled harshly, groaning under the pressure as attackers tried to push their way through the top half and the bottom half at the same time. Dodging a grasping arm, Adyson pushed another android into the fray, hoping to block the doorway completely, in the manner of a silent comedy.

"Watch you don't get stuck!" Phineas called cheerfully, impulsively tearing out some wiring and fixing it all over again.

"Well, not that I-!" Adyson was cut off as an arm grabbed around her throat, pinning her between the wall and the writhing mass that had once been a door. "Hey Candace, how you doing?"

The thing that wore Candace's face said nothing, only pressing down harder in a terrifyingly focused effort to crush the life out of Adyson. The smaller girl kicked wildly, eventually knocking the arm away just as another Rapture-controlled attacker fired a gun where her head had been seconds before.

"She hasn't said anything in a while," Adyson said, rolling towards the android manufacturer and reactivating the production line.

"She must be distracted," Phineas yelled, and dodged a flying shard of glass and metal. "Gretchen, I'll bet."

"Gretchen'll kill her, you know that?"

"No she won't!" Phineas replied calmly.

The door finally collapsed forward with the sound of crushed metal – fallen androids fell apart under the weight of the suddenly advancing crowd of Rapture soldiers. Adyson's second wave smashed into the momentary victors, pushing them back into the frame, but Adyson was aware that with the loss of the barricade, Lucy would push through in minutes.

"Do you hear the people sing, singing the song of angry men…" Adyson sand to her self, leaping over bodies to her next point of cover. When she forgot the actual lyrics, she continued with her own. "It is the music of some Frenchies avec wine and cheese again… ohonhonhon, yadda yadda…Crap!"

The wall at the side of the door frame had begun to cave in on itself, and a golf club swung and snapped two inches from Adyson's arm.

"Oh dear god! I forgot to set Game of Thrones to record!" Adyson yelled, scrambling away from the people who had just burst through the increasingly large hole in the defence.

Scuttling under a falling copy of herself and leaping over a subdued Rapture unit, she landed in a slide, reaching Phineas' side of the room far faster than any logic ruled plausible. The advancing Rapture organism was not far behind, tearing through the last remnant of the androids. Sensing an opportunity, Ferrea had moved towards the android machine, focusing any fighting near there, damaging the source of her enemy in the process.

"Phineas, now would be a good time to…"

"I said it takes tiii-iiime," Phineas chided unhelpfully.

"Do it noo-ooow," Adyson sang back. "Or I'll kick you in the baaaa-aaalls."

"That would be detriment… It's kinda hard to sing that one, huh?"

"Phineas," Adyson said, as the enemy continued to advance, "I'm all for a bit of gallows humour, but they're getting close."

"Almost there," the inventor said, a grimace his first sign of concern.

Adyson barely had time to turn and hold up her hands before the pipe swung at her viciously. In the blurring mass of fighting, she thought it was Buford, or at least, Ferrea moving Buford like a puppet. First on her list of concerns however, above even her readied string of references to anything fictional, was the searing pain the pipe caused as it smacked into her palms.

Luckily, the contact with the palms of her hands glanced the pipe upwards, merely injuring Adyson than killing her. She wondered if the bones in her hands were broken, and guessed that probably all of them were.

"There's one disadvantage to being in a boy's body," she said, grabbing at the pipe before it could swing down again.

"_Name it," _growled Buford, a wolfish grin awaiting victory.

Adyson kicked upwards with all her strength, striking Buford between the legs with extreme accuracy. Buford, or perhaps, Ferrea, let out a shriek of pain and fell back into the crowd as the last android fought to subdue foes far greater in number.

"This is sorta like my zombie apocalypse daydream!" Adyson said, mainly to comfort herself with the sound of her own voice. "Although this time everyone's wearing clothes!"

Instinctively, Adyson swung round to swipe Baljeet's legs away with the pipe before he managed to leap onto her back, all in mid-sentence.

"Phineas, I hate to nag, but could you stop being as useless as Princess Diana's seatbelt?"

"It is accomplished!" exclaimed the red-head triumphantly.

For a moment, everything ceased. Adyson looked from Phineas to the Rapture-controlled assailants, relishing the same look of confusion and dawning panic on each individual face. Ferrea's assault came to a standstill, and, forgetting momentarily how to utilise each person, she spoke out through every mouth.

"_What is that?"_

"A number of things," said Phineas.

The invention hummed louder.

"A symbol of my rejection of apathy, a non-violent solution to this conflict, and your defeat I guess. I mean, literally speaking, it's just a signal jammer."

"_That's impossible!"_

"No it's not. I'm Phineas Flynn."

The switch flicked and the humming was replaced by a loud surge of energy. Adyson imagined for a moment that she could see the barrier – the implausible wave reaching out, negating Ferrea's machinations with little more than a crackle of electricity. Ferrea screamed as one and moved to attack, but no one moved. The Rapture units began to crack along their blinking lights, seemingly struggling under the skin.

"_Ha… You got me Mr Flynn… what are you going to do now…"_

Phineas slid out from under the jammer and looked to see if Adyson was injured. When he was waved away, he approached Candace nonchalantly, staring down Ferrea glancing out from behind his sister's eyes.

"I guess I'll go stop Gretchen before she kills you. Then, I'll get everyone out of this ship, go home in time for pie. But first, I think the people of Danville have something to say to you."

From an observer's point of view, Adyson could only speculate that the rejection was hurting Ferrea, but the twisting, straining people moved in such a way – falling to their knees, physically pulling away, that she assumed it did. The tendrils and hypodermic needles of Rapture units became visible, their blinking furious as they separated agonisingly from their hosts.

"And I think it's 'get out of our heads'," Phineas said.

The tiny noise seemed deafening in that moment – the blinking light from Candace's Rapture unit burst, shattering and spreading miniscule bits of glass tumbling to the floor. Like the rising triumph of a ridiculous symphony, others followed suit, the sound of the spider-like machines hitting the floor in quick succession - underscoring Ferrea's failings.

The moments following gnawed at Adyson's inner fears – what if the release was fatal, what if the captured were brain-damaged, but soon, the first began to blink and pull themselves up from the ground.

Groggily, most of them stood groaning and nursing their wounds, looking at Phineas and Adyson wearily. About two microseconds had passed before Candace nearly crushed Phineas with a hug.

"About time Phineas!"

"Couldn't agree more," he said, struggling to breathe.

"Um hello? I'm the one heading for Best Supporting Actress for this!" Adyson protested.

Candace awkwardly patted her on the head, which seemed to make Adyson happy enough.

A loud mechanical groan ripped through Smile Away, and the ground shook. Many of the recently released captives fell back to the floor, their legs still unstable.

"I knew it!" Adyson said. "Ferrea's gone and turned into a giant blob monster!"

"Ah," said Phineas sheepishly. "Y'know, it occurs to me that the signal jammer may be cutting off whatever Ferb's using to keep the building airborne."

"We're going to crash?" Candace said, unsure whether or not to be scared or frustrated.

"I'll use the jammer to get it back up!" Phineas shouted, darting back over to his invention.

"What about Ferrea?" Adyson asked.

"You deal with her! I'm trusting you to do the right thing Adyson!"

"Oh sure, no problems there," she said, rolling her eyes before sprinting through the scrap heap at the entrance.

* * *

As soon as Ferb's form stood still, distracted by Phineas' actions, Gretchen had attacked in a distinctly unsportsmanlike manner, in the form of repeatedly striking him between the legs. When the signal jammer had went online, Gretchen ignored the computers blinking out one by one and shoved Ferb away, only barely aware that his Rapture unit was coming loose. Fenris scuttled away from her as she advanced towards the centre of the room.

Ferrea's voice – her real voice – became audible from the central unit, at first gasping with pain, but then with panic as she remembered that Gretchen was in the room with her.

"I'm bringing you out Lucy…"

"_Sorry Gretchen. I'm afraid I can't let you do that. Computer, warm up… deadly neurotoxin… Oh, of course… Well done Mr Flynn."_

Ignoring the lack of feeling in her right one, Gretchen used both hands to pry open the containment unit, grimacing and growling with sheer effort fuelled by anger. The effect was somewhat like memory Gretchen had of her childhood, before Ludovico took it from her – in her garden, she, Adyson and Irving had overturned a rock, and watched a huge spider crawl out from under it.

Ferrea was much quicker of course, and her feet shot out, kicking Gretchen directly in the face and knocking her back. There was no smile on the redhead's face this time – panic directed her movements, and she leapt from the containment pod, intent on running anywhere that Gretchen was not.

_I thought we were alike, Gretchen._

Gretchen gave chase, following Ferrea through the converted bunker.

_I thought I understood you. Now I understand you. Irving meant nothing to you alive, did he? After someone's dead, you can attach your emotions and ideals onto them, with nothing to refute it. So some are remembered as heroes, some as villains, and so on._

_You think of Irving now as a tragic crush. In life, you hated him as much as you hate everything else. _

_I understand you – you are worse than Rains._

_You are worse than Fox._

_And you are far worse than Smile Away._

Gretchen tackled Ferrea in the corridor, the girls passing the recovering Ferb and the yapping Fenris in a blur. Crashing to the ground, rubble and glass cut at both of them, and an almighty roar revealed that the flying fortress was making an unscheduled, and rapid, descent. Lucy squirmed in Gretchen's hold, turning and punching with her only good hand, and pulling away with the time it bought her.

"Get away, get away!"

The boots crashed into Gretchen's face time and time again, souring her mouth with the bitter taste of blood. Ignoring it, Gretchen seized Ferrea's leg and pulled herself up, striking at the other girl's face with a great deal of savagery.

Almost in a second, the floor slanted steeply downwards – the building was rushing towards the ground with little time for recovery. Had either girl turned, they would have seen Ferb run to the rebooting computers.

Lucy gave off one last punch, ending rather pathetically in an attempt to claw at Gretchen's face. Swiftly, Gretchen caught it and pulled sharply down.

"Gretchen don't, I surrenderIsurrenderIsurrender!"

The bone was briefly visible as Gretchen snapped Ferrea's only good arm with a feral growl. Lucy screamed, again trying to wriggle out from under her attacker, hysterical tears and hair matted with blood covering her usually-calm features.

She remembered Rains' eyes, black and cold.

She remembered Fox's eyes, grey and unfocused.

Gretchen's eyes were a terrifyingly pure shade of blue, visible through the shattered frames of the glasses, staring at Ferrea with a degree of hate she had never seen before. It was as if the real Gretchen was revealed in that split second – nothing more than a driven, writhing mass of rage.

"Gretchen, please…" Ferrea pleaded, unable to drag herself away with no hands to grip. "Mercy. I'll go away, I'll disappear."

"No," said Gretchen. "You won't." She leant on Ferrea's legs, completely immobilising her. "I can assure you, you won't disappear. You'll stay right here."

"Gretchen, don't kill me, please I don't want to die…"

There was a flicking noise. The building seemed to be stabilising, as the floor seemed slightly more level than it had been. Gretchen had flicked wht Ferrea recognised as Fox's scalpel, and was examining it with clinical cruelty.

"I don't think Irving wanted to die either."

"No, don't Gretchen, I did this for every…"

"Shush," Gretchen whispered, pacing a hand over Ferrea's mouth. "You've done enough talking. Let me finish. Irving didn't want to die. Adyson doesn't want to die. I do. Dear god, I've wanted to die for a year now. Do you know, after the whole incident with Ironside, they gave us all access to a therapist?"

Slowly, she traced the scalpel down Ferrea's torso, refraining from cutting the girl at all. Ferrea was sobbing into Gretchen's bloodied hand, her wide green eyes looking anywhere but Gretchen.

"They got Irving right here," said Gretchen, tapping the scalpel on Ferrea's stomach. "I wonder if I should do the same to you. It's amusing, isn't it, how things turned out? You were the idealist, yet the oppressor. People will think of me as some sort of saviour, when really, I don't care about them at all. I care about two people, and you killed one of them. If you hadn't got Irving, perhaps we would have ended up on the same side."

Gretchen broke into a wide grin that showed far too many teeth and did not spread to her eyes. Lowly, she began to chuckle, and it gradually devolved into a fully-fledged laugh, the high-pitched laughter of a young girl. Hysterically, Ferrea nodded behind Gretchen's hand, and her muffled laughter soon joined Gretchen's. The Fireside Girl lifted her hand, and the two girls laughed together, echoing down the groaning hallway.

"But in the end, while I don't like people," Gretchen said, the laughter dying in her voice. "I still know right from wrong. That's the real difference between us – I'm immoral, you're amoral. So I might very well be evil, and I recognise that. I can barely look at myself in the morning. I hate myself more than that idiot Flynn hated himself. You don't even know what you've done."

"All of this…" Ferrea groaned. "I did it for people like us. No one… no one like us, or Fox or Ironside would have existed again. Everyone would have united… No pain, no suffering… You understand. You hate the world as it is now."

"Maybe," said Gretchen, and she lifted the scalpel. "But I hate you more. So you're going to live."

Wearily, the Fireside Girl rose to her feet, ignoring Fenris as he ran to his owner, desperately sniffing and licking at her face. Gretchen looked down, adjusting her glasses as Adyson found them. The building shook, but it landed safely where it had once been, a combined effort of both Phineas and Ferb.

"I thought you wanted her crucified, Gretch," Adyson said.

"I do. But the fact that people will hate her for what she's done, that she'll be seen as no better than everyone that came before her, well, that will hurt her more than anything I could do."

The murmuring of voices could be heard, and through the windows, the grass could finally be seen through Smile Away again, rather than just the black expansiveness of the night sky. Behind them, Ferb hobbled towards them, looking extremely bewildered and shaken. He was for the most part unharmed. Silently, he nodded towards them and opened one of the emergency doors, gesturing towards the open ground.

"I guess it'll take a while for emergency services to get up and running," Adyson said, moving to support Gretchen.

Gretchen raised her one good hand, remaining in the same place. Adyson looked taken aback at first, before she motioned to Ferb to go on ahead. When the boy had gone, Adyson supposed that the three of them were the only people left in the damaged building.

Agonisingly slowly, Gretchen threw the scalpel away, listening to it clatter off of the wall a short distance away. For her, the world was moving at a snail's pace, and she wondered if she was rocking on her feet, before she realised that her glasses were smashed and that this was how the world really looked.

"Gretch… I…"

Gretchen did not smirk or assume any degree of smugness. She smiled gently, looking at Adyson, who was little more than a blur at that distance.

"You don't need to say it. I needed you more."

Gretchen glanced down at the prostate Ferrea, who was curling around her dog as if expecting another attack. Calmly, Gretchen took off her sash and knelt down beside Ferrea. The redhead winced, but Gretchen ignored her, fixing the broken arm into a makeshift sling with the sash and pulling Lucy to her feet.

"Lucy," said Gretchen. "In retrospect, perhaps what I said was wrong. There is a better reason for rejecting Rapture."

Lucy looked warily from Adyson to Gretchen, shaking uncontrollably, her face incredibly pale and awaiting further assault.

"Without Rapture, you get people who will do horrible things," said Gretchen. "Like me."

Lucy flinched involuntarily, but said nothing, averting her eyes down to her loyal companion who sat comfortingly at her feet.

"But if you had Rapture… well, you'd never have Adyson."

For once, Adyson said nothing, looking rather shy and modest. The corner of Ferrea's mouth twitched slightly.

"I can't say I agree, but I can… understand. It must be nice to have someone to depend on. I'll… I'm not a coward Gretchen. I hate you, and I don't… I don't want to face the trials, the solitude, the hate… I'm not going like my father. I lost, and I'll face the consequences."

Deciding as one, which Adyson thought was extremely ironic considering the circumstances, the girls left Smile Away, followed by Fenris. The people of Danville had gathered in a crowd, with many who had not been aboard Smile Away visible ascending the hill to reunite with their friends and family.

"I hang out with you through choice Gretch, you know that?" Adyson said.

"I know."

"Just thought you should," grinned Adyson. "Keep it in mind next time you say you hate yourself."

_In the end, I don't understand you Gretchen. I don't think I can understand. Perhaps you were right about me being amoral. I'm certainly alien to people, and now I'm not so sure I understand them as well as I thought._

_I think, therefore I am._

_Nothing in this world exists only slightly._

_I've twisted these words. They apply to humans, capable of love and empathy. Perhaps that is my weak conclusion, Gretchen. I can not understand you, other than that you are incredibly, unfathomably, human._

* * *

**Now who was expecting that? Because in the end, it's not just Ferrea that can't understand Gretchen - it's the author and te audience too. Both Gretchen and Ferrea are open to any interpretation you see fit to apply to them. Wow, I actually didn't kill an antagonist for once. If you look at comics, you see the different 'ages' that people ascribe to them and what I've been trying to do - simplifying it, you see the original conception of the series, then the stupid and comedic 'Silver Age', then you move into the dark, pessimistic deconstruction, and in the modern time, it reaches reconstruction. Tempus Fugit was grim and pessimistic - this story has been grim, but in the end, optimistic. See you next time.**


	18. This Vicious Cabaret

**Hello again! Here we have the end, ladies and gentlemen. Not much to say here except enjoy!**

**18 - This Vicious Cabaret**

_**They give you masks and costumes and an outline of the story/ Then leave you all to improvise their vicious cabaret.**_

* * *

28 hit the mat rather hard, but the blow was mostly cushioned. Panting, he raised his head as the rapier pointed at his face.

"Surrender?" said Thomas, removing his mask.

28 wondered if he could dart to the side and recover the match, but eventually reached up and removed his own mask, taking his hand from his épée. He made to get up, before flopping back down onto the mat, looking up at the ceiling. He was glad that no one else had been around to see the fumble that cost him the match.

The hotel's gym was rather bare – aside from some treadmills and the mats, there was only basic gymnastics equipment, the exercise bar of which Thomas was now swinging around at dangerous speed. Ironside had been called to the hotel, and Rains and the Voice of Fate were supposedly accompanying him. 28 had not seen the Voice of Fate today, but then, Thomas had forced him into the gym almost as soon as he arrived.

28 moved lethargically towards a bench, instinctively reaching for his bible.

"Ugh," said Thomas, still in the midst of his gymnastics routine. "You put too much faith into that thing."

"What do you mean?" 28 asked, leaning his head against the wall. "Why do you have such a, ah, problem with it?"

"I don't," Thomas grunted, his swinging picking up more speed. "A book is a book is a book."

He let go suddenly, flying through the air in his fencing outfit, before rolling in mid-air and landing with his feet on the mat.

"Round of applause…heh." He looked around, his eyes clearing for a moment. "Ah, yeah. Your little bible. My problem is, you think by putting faith in it, you'll solve your problems."

"That's how religion works."

Thomas sat down on the bench, reaching over for his trench coat, which had been washed for once, much like Thomas himself. From the pockets he produced two green bottles, and offered one to 28.

"I don't ah… My brother does, and I give him hell for it…"

Thomas raised an eyebrow, and 28 took the beer bottle anyway. It took them longer than either would have admitted to crack the bottles open, but they managed eventually.

"Won't Ironside be mad you've stolen his, ah, alcohol?"

"Ironside's always mad. Where was I? Aheheh, yes. So you imagine that God wants to fix your problems."

28 did not really like the taste of beer – there was something harsh about it, and he wondered how adults managed to drink it all the time. Thomas did not seem to have the same issue, barely noticing it.

"Well yes, the point is that God loves us."

"Yes, but imagine this. You're God, right? And you, heh, you've got nothing to watch but these primates all day. If they're all happy, what is there to watch? It's how fiction works."

"Ah, yes, but that's fiction."

"We're all fiction, one way or another," grinned Thomas. "Y'see, you'll never be happy, or happy for long anyway, because conflict and misery define stories."

"Happy endings," 28 retorted.

"I suppose," Thomas said, looking off into the distance. "I don't kid myself – I'm going to die young. Probably soon. Aheh. Hopefully it's all dramatic and shit."

28 frowned. "Come on, Smile Away's bad, but it's not always life-threatening. One day we'll all be free."

Thomas made to cuff 28 over the head, but seemed to forget mid-way, and leaned his head back against the wall, childishly swigging at from the beer bottle.

"You don't get it – what's there to watch when we're happy? We'll always be miserable, dying, and all that jazz. Heh – you're much more interesting that way, see?"

28 was turning quite red already from the alcohol. At least, he hoped it was the alcohol anyway. If he had started to blush in public, 27 would never stop mocking him for it.

"So, we're just entertainment?" 28 asked.

"Hey, it's not a bad thing. Play to it. It doesn't mean you can't enjoy yourself, in fact, it means the opposite. Just don't, aheh, be boring."

"Rains. 28." The voice boomed down the corridor and into the gym. 28 could picture the voice's source standing at the top of the stairs, giant, perhaps with the Voice of Fate scuttling after him.

"I have to go," said 28, standing.

"I'll be two seconds," Thomas said, pulling his coat over his fencing clothes.

When 28 had disappeared out of the door, Thomas took a moment to look around the gym, removing the beer bottles and stuffing them into the equipment cupboard.

"Alarm zu geben, wenn es so wär… Dabei war'n da am Horizont…" he sang quietly in his gravelly voice, grinning in the dark as he shut the lights down one by one.

Thomas Rains stood in the dark, his black eyes slowly becoming accustomed to it. He mused that to someone watching, he must have looked like the Cheshire Cat – just a grin hanging in the air.

"Play your part," he said. "Aheheh. When it's done, the crowd applauds, and then you exit, stage right."

* * *

The months seemed to pass faster than they should have for Gretchen. The saying was that time went faster when you were having fun, but in truth, she was just relieved it was over. As the summer went on, with Phineas, Ferb and the rest crashing past her flat in some new contraption everyday, she stayed indoors. Her sister was being nice to her for once, and it was slightly awkward, but Gretchen preferred it to the commotion outside.

Adyson visited often, and they had both attended Irving's funeral, where Phineas had called Irving a hero and declared that he had been one of his best friends. To Gretchen, it had seemed hollow – an ill-informed understatement of what Irving had done and meant to her. At the funeral she had been polite to everyone, which she was convinced had been a shock to them, and she had returned home quietly.

Phineas would occasionally attempt to get her to join in his daily projects, and Isabella would often ask if Gretchen was going to attend the dwindling ranks of the Fireside Girls again. Gretchen had been secretly flattered by these invitations, but declined nevertheless.

"You've made a cell for yourself," her sister complained one day.

"That's the entire point," Gretchen had replied.

When Adyson had heard about this, she had visited and attempted to convince Gretchen to join in with everyone else.

"Ferrea's the bad guy Gretch, not you."

"You can take the praise as a hero," Gretchen said, smiling. "You deserve it. The cameras and reporters coming to my door, they think I'm the same as you."

Adyson had replied by repeatedly hitting Gretchen over the head with her squeaky inflatable hammer, punctuating each irritating bouncing noise with demands to know what Gretchen had done with 'real, asshole Gretchen'. Gretchen had smiled and joked with her baffled friend, but still remained indoors.

Ferrea's trial was everywhere as summer became autumn, but Gretchen did her best to avoid it. She wondered how long the case would drag on, but she assumed it would be rather open-and-close. After all, it was not like there was any ambiguity present. She had been called to give evidence, and gave it calmly, avoided looking at Ferrea and went back home without a change in expression or mood.

When winter came, and Ferrea began to fade from the news, people began to ask Gretchen why she had not returned to school. Sensing the hysteria and moral outrage over the whole incident beginning to subside, and the people involved moving on, Gretchen vowed to return after the Christmas vacation.

On the 20th of December, Gretchen left her flat. Habitually, she opened and closed her right hand, quashing the resistance felt. It was numb, and she suspected it would be her entire life, but she was able to hold things again, and that had to count for something. Before she closed the door, she whistled.

Fenris bounded out of the living room, yapping excitedly. The puppy had grown considerably over time, and his high-pitched bark no longer seemed to fit his large powerful body.

"Come on then," Gretchen said, and they left the apartment complex.

They had been out on the street for nearly two seconds before Adyson dropped out of nowhere in particular and grabbed Gretchen in a crushing hug.

"Finally! Being an asocial weirdo's only charming for so long, you know?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess so…" said Gretchen, wondering if her ribs would hold.

"Hey Fenris!" Adyson chirped, ruffling the dog's ears. Having still not learned to behave himself, Fenris jumped up, paws on Adyson's shoulders, attempting to sniff her face. "Get off!"

"He does that," Gretchen said, because she had been too lazy and too amused to teach the Labrador otherwise.

"Where we goin', TC?" Adyson asked when Fenris settled down.

Gretchen raised an eyebrow, and Adyson nodded understandingly. They began to walk the path to the bus stop, on their way passing a blue sedan that seemed to have been parked there forever, and smelled like it had been there even longer than that.

"Oh, you're not wearing glasses!"

"Contacts," Gretchen said. "Had them for a while now, just wasn't interested in wearing them for a while."

For the weather, Adyson thought Gretchen's eyes were appropriate – they reminded her of ice. Snow had refused to fall so far in Danville, but the world seemed hardened by the cold, and the sun provided no actual warmth in the clear blue sky. So when the giant creature swooped down through the sky towards them, it was all too visible. Fenris barked and the two girls jumped back, but the animal pulled up before it reached them, hovering above the pavement.

"Whatcha doin?" Isabella called from her place on the saddle.

"What is that?" Adyson said slowly.

"It's a pterodactyl," Phineas said cheerfully, lifting his flight goggles. "Ferb and I created them this morning. You can hop on – they're giant-sized anyway, they can take about seven of us."

"Well, perhaps less," said Baljeet. "We are carrying Buford after all."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That there are serious health issues that need to be addressed by the government?" Baljeet suggested.

"Come on, it'll be fun!" Isabella said.

"No thank you," Gretchen said. "There's somewhere I have to be. Besides, Fenris can't get on. How are you?"

"Fine," said the chief. "We're meeting at the lodge tomorrow by the way. Holly quit."

"So it's just the three of us?" Gretchen asked.

Isabella looked sheepish, despite the fact that she was clinging to Phineas, which would usually have overwritten any emotion other than infatuated bliss. "Yeah, I guess so."

Gretchen stayed quiet for a moment, before smiling. "Sounds good. I'll see you tomorrow."

She turned to leave, before hearing a fumbling of buckles, and looked around to see Phineas hop down from the mount's back.

"Wait two minutes Gretchen!" Phineas said.

"Fat chance," said Adyson, but to her surprise, Gretchen did walk back to the group.

"You look better Phineas," Gretchen said.

Phineas grinned broadly. His hair was long and slightly out of control, having the sense of direction and order as the leaves of a red palm tree and it bounced amusingly when he talked.

"It's good to see you around. Therapists and that, they're not as useless as they're made out to be."

"Hurm," said Gretchen, and then, "Thank you. I'll keep it in mind."

"She hangs out with me, so she's probably been seeing one for years," said Adyson.

Phineas laughed and looked from Adyson to Gretchen.

"You know, no one can thank you two enough."

"You did all the work," said Gretchen, stiffening slightly.

Sensing her discomfort, Phineas patted her on the arm and grabbed onto his harness, pulling himself back up into the saddle.

"I'll see you two around then," Phineas called. "The next step is forgiveness, y'know."

"See you tomorrow Isabella!" Adyson said.

"Wait a minute, how did you create that thing?" Gretchen asked.

Phineas and Ferb looked at each other, and for a second, Gretchen thought Phineas was about to say 'I'm Phineas Flynn'. Instead, there was a short pause before Ferb spoke, the corner of his mouth twitching.

"It's what we do."

The group of friends soared up into the sky, darting across the Danville skyline. Their fading voices echoed momentarily, with Isabella pointing out the pursuing Candace in her car, which sped past Adyson and Gretchen dangerously.

"Huh," said Gretchen. "There's our mystery speeder."

"Bus is here," said Adyson, and they clambered aboard.

On the journey, Gretchen found herself gazing out of the frozen windows beginning to run with condensation. Looking out at the hills, she could see the bulldozers and cranes where Smile Away had once stood. Apparently a children's hospital was to be built there next year.

"Still pining after Isabella?" Gretchen said eventually. "I'd imagine with your fame, you've got plenty of options."

Adyson laughed. "I suppose I do. It was only ever a stupid crush on the Chief anyway. Speaking of fame, I have my own action figure now."

"Yes, they sent me a form asking to do the same to me."

Fenris made a whining noise that sounded suspiciously like a complaint.

"They're making a movie," said Adyson. "They're doing the Ironside one first though."

"Sounds awful," admitted Gretchen. "And offensive."

"It is - I've seen the script. They've aged everyone up to sexy twenty-somethings, given everyone motorbikes and stuff. Ironside is now Russian, and they changed Rains into a girl."

"Are we in it?" Gretchen asked, beginning to show interest in this terrible-sounding project.

"I think we get a line or two. Played by unknown actresses. I think we'd best not go see it. Unless you want to riff it and post it on the internet?"

The bus screeched to a halt outside of town. Gretchen hated the noises buses made when stopping or staring, but barely noticed it this time. The three of them were the only ones to get off at the stop, and Gretchen instructed Fenris to wait outside the building.

The Povenmire-Marsh Juvenile Detention Centre was a garishly painted building, obnoxiously cheerful for something of its purpose. Gretchen and Adyson walked into the reception and were horrified to learn that the inside was just as inappropriately painted. Adyson mused that they probably had clowns painted on the cell walls.

They were shown into a bright blue room with two steel doors and bolted steel table in the center. Gretchen had thought it would be a much less private affair, with a glass screen, a guard and communication via phone, but the guards stepped outside after ushering the visitors in.

"I hear KK is in here," said Adyson. "In the male wing, obviously, but still… I don't like being on the same planet as that guy."

Gretchen sat down and waited in silence. Eventually, the second door opened and Lucy Ferrea was shown into the room.

Gretchen steepled her fingers and leant on the table. "Lucy. You don't look well."

It was true. She reminded Gretchen of a spider trapped under a drinking glass – after it stopped trying to escape, it merely stood still, robbed of purpose. Lucy was motionless for a while, until quietly sitting down. She had adopted Adyson's apparent dislike for sleeves, which only made her appear more skeletal. Her cheeks were hollow and she had bags under her eyes.

"Reminds me of Rains," Lucy said. Her voice was hoarse from lack of use. "The constant surveillance. He had to be strapped down for medical inspections. They used to put him on stool softeners to deprive him of an extra weapon. So he just tried to drown the nurse in the toilet. Never realized the irony before."

Her laugh was more of a cough, containing far more pain than amusement.

"I've come to see you," said Gretchen, as if it were not clear. "How are you?"

Lucy steepled her fingers with some difficulty, and Gretchen was not sure if it was unintentional mimicry or intentional mockery.

"I've been better. A little hurt – read an article about myself the other day."

"Some were petitioning for the death penalty," Adyson explained to Gretchen.

"America is gleefully right-wing when it wants to be," Lucy said. "So how are you, Gretchen?"

"I think I've taken my punishment. Maybe some will disagree."

"Punishment, yes. Well, I get transferred to an adult prison when I turn eighteen, so from my point of view, your time hasn't been so bad."

"Are you sorry now?" Adyson asked.

Lucy made a grimace. "I've had people diagnosing me for months, looking for an explanation. They've tried to diagnose me with autism, schizophrenia, multiple personalities, narcissism, sociopathy… Anything really. I know what I did and I know why I did it, but they can't accept that."

"Perhaps because you rejected what could have been a life?" Gretchen said. "Imagine if you'd moved in with Isabella."

Lucy avoided eye-contact with Gretchen at that, and looked genuinely remorseful for a moment, before another coughing fit hit her and the regret was replaced by pain.

"People… they sit around in their houses watching TV and tut at the news. 'This world is horrible', they'll say, and then they'll just go back to what they were doing. 'Ooh, but that's the way things are, life's not fair'. If life's not fair, people should get up and do something about it."

"True," Gretchen replied to the outburst. "But they won't, because they're lazy."

Lucy sank back in her seat.

"Did you visit Irving's grave?"

"Only at the funeral."

Lucy mumbled something in response, but Gretchen never found out what it was. Shortly afterwards, Lucy spoke again.

"27 and 28?"

"Phineas saw to it," Adyson said. "They're next to Rains."

Lucy laughed. "28 and Rains? 27 would be foaming at the mouth." Suddenly, she looked like a little girl. "Is Fenris here?"

"No dogs allowed," said Gretchen. At Ferrea's crest-fallen face, she spoke without entirely thinking. "I can… ask Phineas about it. We might be able to let you pet him through the fence or something."

"Thank you," Ferrea said. "They have me in solitary for my own protection. It's… I missed the three of you."

"The three of us?" Adyson said.

Ferrea looked somewhat embarrassed.

"Well, I thought…"

"Time's up," said the guard.

Adyson and Gretchen rose to their feet. Ferrea remained where she was, and called to them before they exited.

"Gretchen?"

"Yes?"

"I am sorry. I… I lost something I didn't know I had."

Gretchen froze.

"If… there's a…" Ferrea struggled to find the right words. "Look, they have this Christmas thing here. And it's coming up – y'know, these rooms get decorated and kids have dinner with their parents. Basic stuff."

"And?" said Gretchen.

"Could you… could you come? Both of you I mean. You're the first people that have visited…"

Adyson looked at Gretchen, waiting for an instruction. The shorter girl remained silent for a long time, ignoring the increasingly impatient guard. Ferrea shuffled awkwardly in her seat.

"I'll see what I can do," said Gretchen, and left.

Gretchen had forgotten how cold it was outside, shivering the second she left the building. Some clouds had started to form in the previously clear sky, and she could see snow in the distance.

"Wonder if that's natural, or Phineas and Ferb," she said to Adyson.

Before Adyson could answer, her cell phone cut her off, beeping loudly. Fenris trotted up to them happily, and Gretchen scratched his ear with her good hand. Adyson frowned as she read the message.

"It's the Chief. Someone's broken into the lodge."

"What did they take?" Gretchen asked.

"Pretty specific stuff," Adyson said, displaying the message to her friend.

"Hurm," said Gretchen. "I wonder what sort of case this'll be, then?"

"Can't be any worse than our last one," Adyson said with a grin. "We taking it?"

"Of course we are," said Gretchen.

Gretchen, Adyson and Fenris left the detention centre behind them, and ignored the bus stop, walking towards Danville in the distance. In time, the snow began to fall in earnest, and Gretchen jokingly held her ears closed to Adyson's loud carol-singing.

**The End**

* * *

**It's… it's over? Well then, I know what you need… Extra long author's note in which I recommend lots of stuff!**

**Adyson as always, has taken influence from Deadpool, but not as much as she did when she was a side-character – she sorta grew on her own accord. As Dellanotte has pointed out, she borders on Mary Sue levels sometimes – hopefully you find her too likable to notice.**

**Gretchen is the unholy combination of George Smiley and Gendo Ikari, with a touch of Rorschach's 'hurm'. It was strange writing an out-and-out anti-hero, if that even fits her. After all, she could very well be evil. But she is better by this chapter, and she is showing remorse, so… it's up to you.**

**Lucy Ferrea (and it was the High Lord of Terra who named her) does not really take direct inspiration from anything other than the angel Satan (not that one, that one's his uncle) in Mark Twain's The Mysterious Stranger. Look it up, it's excellent. By the end, in her jail time, she's beginning to draw a little from the titular character in the equally excellent We Need To Talk About Kevin.**

**Irving – poor guy. From the moment I realised I could kill anyone in an Au though, he was going to die. In terms of personality, I figure he ranks somewhere between LotR's Gollum and Firefly's Wash. Strange combination, I know.**

**27 and 28 went through several nationality changes – first they were Australian, then New Zealanders, American, South African, Scottish… I like Northern Irish though, I like how they turned out. The original inspiration, of course, was Hansel and Gretel from Black Lagoon.**

**Mr Fox. The most evil character in the entire series, most of him is just typical serial killer archetypes mashed together. You may have wondered, if he's Jack the Ripper, why he seems so ready to go after children. Well, in Tempus Fugit, he was originally going to be Gilles de Rais. But hey, even I have my limits, and Jack the Ripper was much less scary than Gilles de Rais.**

**The THOR-2 mech is Neon Genesis Evangelion-inspired, as some of you have noticed – it's likely intentional on Adyson's part. **

**Well then, that's it. Smile Away is gone, the series is done. Adieu, auf wiedersehen, farewell.**


End file.
